What Happened?

We've been waiting for someone - anybody - to ask but no one seems to want to (or they just don't care). We have some good answers ready that we'd love to roll by anyone who will listen. Last night I found myself trotting them out to some friends who probably really don't care but just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's ok, I think - they 're good friends. It will take more than my church musings to drive them away any time soon. But I figured I better stick to my own forum where I can pretty much say whatever I want and nobody has to read it if they don't want to...

So, you might ask, what happened to you guys and the CEC? And what's up with this Orthodox thing? Well, thanks for asking! While our departure from our home parish may have seemed a surprise to some, it had actually been brewing for some time. Without going into details, suffice it to say that leadership styles were clashing and we felt like it was time to stop stepping on toes. We traced the problems back to the CEC's use of Government by Consensus (GBC) and outlined a whole host of pitfalls intrinsic within the way it is utilized and regulated by the CEC. While GBC was our exit from one parish, we started looking around really hard at the CEC as a whole. We communicated with a lot of people and did a lot of research. As we were confirming our suspicions about GBC, we also came across some other startling (to us) information about the mission and vision of the ICCEC.

When we came into the CEC 10 years ago we came in as Catholics. Looking around at the Roman Catholic church and being part of the Charismatic Movement we just couldn't figure out how to marry the two and stay true to God's leading. We couldn't ever stop being Catholic but we just didn't know where to turn. Enter the CEC with its promise of convergence worship and its mission of "providing a bridge" to seeking evangelicals, charismatics and catholics from one stream of worship to another. We spent years in the CEC boasting that we were more catholic than the Catholics. Our favorite priest used to talk about CEC'ers as Happy Catholics. Our bishops were in deep conversation with Roman officials to legitimize the apostolic succession found in the CEC's line and to begin conversations toward co-communion with Rome. We proclaimed prophetic words about the CEC clergy being the Knights of Orthodoxy and all the right buzz words were there to make us feel comfortably Catholic in a new and exciting movement of God.

But something happened. Our bishops who had been pursuing these orthodox and Catholic threads left (somewhat due to the problems we tried to raise with GBC). Along with them went the Catholic rhetoric and vision. Suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by bishops touting the CEC as following an "Anglican ethos". These words are echoed throughout sermons, documents and bishops' writings. Anglican ethos....Anglican - Anglo - of England? Huh? What happened to being that uniquely Western convergence church? What happened to our apostolic roots that gave us a connection to the historic church - all the way back to the apostles? Since when did we align ourselves with a Protestant movement whose roots can be found in a European king's desire to divorce his wife?

Again and again we came across these words - Anglican ethos. Then some bishops began openly denying that the CEC was ever called to be a bridge. The language is changing, the rhetoric becoming suspiciously Anglicized and we realized we'd been snookered. Tad's seminary training was rife with Orthodox and Catholic literature. They read all the right books, took what they liked and abandoned the rest. They could read about it but were never allowed or encouraged to visit an Orthodox or Roman Catholic or even Assemblies of God church (if we're going to build a convergence church, why not look closely at each stream before jumping into it?!). They were flying by the seat of their pants doing buffet theology - picking what they liked, abandoning some and special ordering their own brand of exegesis to make it all fit together. And we bought it hook, line and sinker.

Tad's inquiries to his bishop regarding the Anglicizing of the CEC were never met with rebuttal. It seems the remaining crop of bishops are perfectly aligned with this "Anglican ethos". But we just are not. Tad felt to remain a priest in the CEC he would have to begin crossing his fingers behind his back half the time he taught whatever the party line was becoming. He could no longer in good conscience support or teach or preach or serve from a church whose government is intrinsically failed and whose theology is developing into one contrary to his own belief system (and contrary from what he believed he had vowed to teach, preach and serve).

So after a lot of prayer, research and pillow talk we made the decision to move on and start anew. Tad had to lay down his priesthood in the process but since he couldn't excercise it in good conscience in the CEC anyway it was a sacrifice he felt had to make. He may pick it back up again in the future -that's for God to decide - but for now he has returned to being Mr. Dad (and we're enjoying having him around - no doubt!).

So the question became where do we go now? For reasons he'll have to explain, Tad didn't want to journey back into the Roman Catholic church. We looked at the Polish National Catholic Church and even visited one in Baltimore city for a few weeks. The people were great, the theology workable but God just was not leading us there. I don't know what triggered it one day but I suddenly grabbed hold of Orthodoxy. Tad had been mentioning the Eastern Orthodox for years. His favorite theologian he encountered in seminary was Schmemman (I know I slaughtered that spelling!) and he had relied heavily upon his teachings when teaching his own series on the sacraments. I had read bits and pieces. He had referred me several times to Frederica Mathewes-Green's blog over the years. We followed Fr. Patrick Cardine's journey from the CEC into Orthodoxy. We dabbled in using icons for personal meditation. And one day all the pieces flew together in my mind and my spirit. I knew that was it. I told Tad so and he was...surprised. He didn't know I'd been listening, I guess. But here's the bottom line. If we left the CEC because of its failure to ground itself in the ancient, historic church, then we would be hypocrites to go anywhere from there *but* Orthodoxy (esp once you look past the revisionist history taught within the Roman Catholic church).

So here we are. Once again pilgrims on a new road but this time the road leads East. Lest anyone think I was wearing the pants in this decision, don't believe it for a minute. It just took me about 7 years to get to where my husband was leaning toward all along. He'd been waiting for me to see the light and now we are joyfully walking hand in hand together with our 10 little charges behind.

As a footnote, I thought I would add Tad's (slightly edited) response to this post. He was able to clarify some points from his pov that I think are valuable comments. In some cases, my response to his response is in italics.

A couple of points:
- The post seems to imply that the bishops left after we raised problems with GBC. We were latecomers to that game. (Yeah, I didn't mean to imply that. Those guys were flagging problems long before we opened our eyes...)

- Some folks separate "Anglican" from "Church of England" by claiming Anglican really is the Church founded in Britain before Roman Catholic missionaries showed up and took over. Hence, the "Western Orthodox" claims. However, you are right -- the current Anglican churches have very little in common with the ancient British Christians.

- We weren't exactly snookered, per se. We were following people who had been snookered. I think our bishops (Zampino and Sly) were completely forthright with us. They seem to have been taken for a ride somewhere along the line, though.

- Nobody ever said we weren't allowed to visit other churches. It wasn't strongly encouraged, but it wasn't discouraged, either. In fact, the Seminary course on Orthodoxy used to require students to visit an Orthodox service. That requirement was dropped when I took the class. But, your greater point is valid -- the ICCEC borrowed theology and practice from other groups but never engaged them in order to learn from them. (Well, I'm not sure how it would have gone over to ask to be relieved from a couple of Sunday morning's worth of obligations to explore other church practices either...)

- No bishop ever denied being Catholic. In fact, [our most recent] bishop claimed it rather strongly. However, his definition of the word seemed to be awfully fuzzy, so it wasn't even a point I could press. There was some disagreement with my points, but no real counterarguments were raised.

- You almost spelled "Schmemann" right! (How 'bout that!)

- I don't think I ever wanted to be Orthodox. All the fasting and rules and prayers still scare me because I'm so bad at them. I wanted to be Orthodox-like, without all the hard stuff. The one justification I had was that I thought you would like the disciplines even less than I did. Now I don't have that excuse, so I have to walk down that road. At least I have your beautiful self by my side to keep me company.... ( I didn't say you wanted to be Orthodox, I just implied that you were intensely interested in it...)

- Ten little (and not so little) charges behind, and one in front! (Referring, of course, to Pickles in the oven - he's so clever sometimes!)

Cheese Fare Sunday

There has to be something wonderful about a church that celebrates Cheese Fare Sunday. Jesus and cheese - my two faves in one church! Who could ask for anything more?

Ahh....Reinforcements have Arrived!

I've been too sick to chronicle the latest and greatest details of our lives but somewhere in the muddle that is the past two weeks, my spiritual reinforcements arrived in the form of good Orthodox literature. I am about half-way through Frederica Mathewes-Green's second book On the Corner of East and Now. I'm enjoying it tremendously but am really ready for a new perspective on Orthodoxy and something with a bit more meat on which to chew. As if on cue, Fr. Greg handed us a couple of treasures after Divine Liturgy on Sunday - The Way of a Pilgrim, the classic story of one Orthodox journey and an introductory book, Introducing the Orthodox Church by Anthony Coniaris which looks to be aimed at catechumens and inquirers with a point by point explanation of the various aspects of Eastern Orthodoxy.

Then my first installment of the Philokalia arrived in the mail. When I showed it to Tad, he grabbed it from my hands and clutched it to himself, hiding it from my view, proclaiming, "You think you're ready for this?!" The Philokalia is a collection of writings from the early church fathers. It is the Orthodox spiritual map through the scriptures - Eastern dynamite. Dynamite, as we all know, must be handled with care. It should only be handled by those with experience and understanding of its properties lest it cause more harm than good. The Philokalia must be read, then, according to most Orthodox only under proper spiritual tutelage and only when a person has reached a level of spiritual maturity capable of navigating its depths....or so Tad has been led to believe. I put that on the bottom of the pile. I guess I'll be discussing that later with Fr. Greg but I sort of figured if I could navigate through St Francis de Sales' Treatise on the Love of God then I could at least finger through the Philokalia...such spiritual pride!

It Could Have Been Miriam...

In another time, in another place, perhaps it could have been Miriam - that's all I can think when I hear about today's latest atrocities in Baghdad. Two suicide bombers, supposedly mentally challenged women, were sent into popular pet markets and then detonated by remote control. I can't even fathom the evil of this event but I do know that probably anybody could get my dear, sweet, innocent Miriam to hold a box of pretty birds and walk into a crowded market to show them off. Oh God have mercy on us! Today I am thankful that my sweet Miriam is safe inside our home to play with her horses and sing her off-key songs and cackle at her baby brother.

Meet The Robinsons

JT got a bee in his bonnet about a month ago to watch this movie. I hadn't been paying much attention to the trailers or to how it did in the box office so I put it on the Netflix que in hopes of giving it a quick preview before showing it to the family. JT beat me to it and we ended up watching it together one night. The copy we got from Netflix turned out to be full of scratches and a real frustration but even at that we suffered through because JT was just getting so much out of it that it was hard for me to turn it off. Always the pragmatist, JT generally has a running commentary through any movie - but particularly cartoons or fantasy - about the impossibilities of every scene. I noticed about a third of the way through this one that he was conspicuously quiet.

The story centers around a 12 year old boy named Lewis who is left at the doorstep of an orphanage as an infant and we now see him 12 years later in a desperate struggle to gain an adoptive family before he becomes a teenager. The trouble is, Lewis is a bright and eccentric inventor who continually alienates people with his latest and greatest tributes to science. Through a long, twisted series of events Lewis ends up content with his lot in life without the need to find out about his birthmother when he realizes that the place he most belongs is right smack in the middle of an extraordinarily eccentric family full of crazy characters where his own eccentricities make him not only happy, but wildly successful.

Sound familiar? I think JT thought so. We begged our neighbor to track down the copy of it they bought for Christmas and had yet to watch so we could have it handy. JT has watched it a handful of times since and still can't seem to get enough of this story. We're sometimes leary of adoption stories because so many of them center around the angst and unknowing of adoptive children. This one made it perfectly ok to be different, to not necessarily have all the answers and to fit into a family that is different in everyone's eyes. If we were going to write a movie to help JT feel like he fit into our family better, we couldn't have done it better than this. Sometimes God just sends a windfall our way...

Can't I Have a Reset Button?

This has been one of those phenomenally frustrating days. I knew it would be from the start when before I even got my contact lenses in and my teeth brushed I had a phone call. Now normally I would ignore the phone at that point in my day but we were expecting this call and I needed to handle some details of the day. However, the details were handled within the first few minutes and then the caller continued on....and on....and on.....I did manage to get my bed made and my eyeballs in while on the phone but I couldn't very well step into the shower too.

In the meantime, chaos reigned. I thought I had this worked out. Miriam gets up Noah and gives him his breakfast while Ben does the same with Nathan. Miah is all Adora's. I don't call the three of them the Mobile Destruction Team for nothin'. For some reason, all of them were still in bed screaming their silly little heads off whilst I tried to disentangle myself from this phone call. I finally managed to get off the phone, Adora had the three of them dressed and I booted them down the steps, gate up, no more little destructo-boys wandering the upstairs. No sooner did I get all my clothes off then I hear Noah wandering the hallways. I put my pjs back on, locate him, boot him back down the steps and admonish anyone walking by to keep him downstairs. I get in the shower where, fortunately, my hearing is blissfully blocked by the sound of running water. However, stepping out of the shower, I hear chaos in full swing downstairs once again. I have just enough time to pull on one sock before I become convinced that without intervention my house will shortly be a pile of rubble amidst this suburban block. I pull on my pjs as I race down the hall (an interesting concept for a pregnant woman) and once again admonish all the capable ones to be doing all they can to control the chaos so that Adora and I can at least bathe for Pete's Sake. By this time, my tone of voice is no longer remotely civil. In fact, I am yelling. It's not a good sign.

I take the time to get dressed and attempt to have my quiet prayer time. This goes ok for about 2 1/2 minutes when I realize that it is now way too quiet. Adora had taken off in her van without getting all her instructions for the day and was toting one too many babies along. So off I run down the street chasing her down (again, interesting concept for a pregnant woman) while Ben scoots to find my cellphone which his more rational brain realizes is a much more effective means of communication in this situation. This is still not good. It is minutes before 10:00, I haven't had breakfast and school is not yet even begun.

Well, breakfast happens, Nathan goes down for a morning nap and we work our way through History - even get a little ahead...maybe it's gonna be alright....Then we move on to our work at the table. For this part of the day I park myself at a dining room chair surrounded by 6 or 7 or 8 kids depending upon who wants to do school on any particular day (it's optional for JM and David). From this seat, I can orchestrate several different lessons at once. With my patience already worn thin, I sent JM and David off to play, Ben, Betsy and JT were working independently which left me with Ruth, Philip and Miriam. Oh boy....so much for alright.

Miriam was working on her English book. She has a little 1st/2nd grade workbook she's been going through and today we were working on capitalizing the first letter of a proper noun. Her lesson went something like this:

Miriam, read the sentence and tell me what word in the sentence is a name.

The boy is Sam.

Good, which word there is somebody's name?

Boy!

Uh, no. That's the common noun but what is his name?

Oh....stares off into space...

Miriam, you have to look at the book.

She looks at the book...at the page number.

Miriam, look at the sentence you just read right here. I point to the sentence.

She looks at the third sentence.

Miriam, this sentence right here. What is the boy's name?

Sam.

Good. And do you see Sam starts with a capital letter? Can you write Sam on this line with a Capital "S"?

She writes sAm

Miriam, you need to make the first letter a capital. What is the first letter in Sam?

S.

Yes, so can you write it with a capital S?

She writes SAm

and so it goes. Three workbook pages later she was still writing out MirIam and pArker scHooL. Thing is, she sort of got it somewhere in the middle there and then just plumb lost it again.

Now, this was punctuated with my work with Philip.

Philip, did you do your reading assignment?

Yes.

Did you check all your work and make sure you have it all done?

Yes.

Ok, good. I look at the workbook. Philip, you skipped this whole section. You need to follow the directions and mark the poem here. Please finish the assignment.

Several minutes later.

I'm done.

Ok, did you finish the section I showed you?

Blank look. I did this. He points to a section he had already done correctly.

Philip, you already did that part and you did it right. Did you change it?

Confused look.

Philip, did you do the other part on that page that wasn't done?

Yes.

I look at the book. Work still not done. Philip, this is the section I asked you to do. Did you do it?

Yes.

But it says to follow the directions and mark the poem on this page. You didn't do that.

Blank look

Ok, I'll check your other work. I look in the reader to check his workbook answers and find it marked up with random markings. Philip, did you write in your reader?

Yes.

Why? Do we write in our books?

No.

Well, why did you write in your book?

Mom (note the tone of voice which believes I am the stupidest person on the face of the earth), it said to mark the poem.

Ah. Philip, the poem is on the page in your workbook. This is a story in your reader. You were supposed to mark the poem in your workbook.

Confused, blank look.

Moving on to Ruth. Keep in mind, these three scenarios are a steady stream of conversation between the three of them at once. Ruth is working on a spelling test. I check the test. 6 of the 10 words are wrong. I erase the wrong answers and ask her to think them through and correct them. She rewrites each one exactly the same way. I again erase them and the harangue begins.

Ruth, what makes the "k" sound at the end of rock?

Ummmm....r?

No, rock begins with an r. What makes the "k" sound at the end?

r....k.....o

Listen to the question. Here's the word - roCK. What makes the "k" sound at the end?

k.

Ok, it sounds like a k but it's two letters together. What are the two letters?

r...k?

No, I'm not asking you how to spell the word. I'm asking you what two letters make the "k" sound at the END.

k

And?

c?

Yes! Now what order do they go in?

kc

No, switch them up.

kc

No, that's the way you just said it. Switch the letters - you have the wrong one first.

ck.

Good, now can you spell rock?

rkc

Ok, remember it was going to be a ck at the end?

rck

Hm, how about the middle? rrrrrooooooooooock

rick

Nope what makes the oooooooooo sound?

a?

Think about it, Ruth. oooooooo

o

Yes! Now can you spell rock?

r..o..c...k

Great! Write it down!

She writes it down. Now look at this next word. It has the exact same sound at the end - soCK.

How do you spell that sound at the end again?

r...o...c...k

Nope, that was the last word. This one rhymes with that word...and so it continued. But Ruth is just plain not this dumb. She generally does much better than this with great ease. But today, of course, she is frozen in lala Land.

There are days like this that I amaze myself with my patience. Today is not one of them. There is nothing amazing about my patience because it is non-existent. With a sweep of my hand I yell for everyone to just give it up and put the books away for the day. I announce book time, quiet time and send everyone to sit quietly on their beds while I retreat to my bedroom.

The only problem is that Nehemiah is very tired but has missed his morning nap (see reference to phone call and plans contained therein). So instead of sleeping he screams....for a solid hour...while Nathan seems to catch the bug and hoots and giggles at Miah's screaming. No one is quiet because quiet is impossible to obtain in this household. I am now very *not* amused. I spend my quiet time running back and forth to the computer and Miah's bed settling him down over and over and over and over again and trying to convince Nate that, while he may be very cute, he is not at all funny. I give up trying to get any quiet, ignore the noise and write for awhile at my computer before running downstairs to get dinner ready.

JT and Tad are going to a soccer game so I need to get them fed first. I make a passle of sausages and throw them on paper plates. I feed JT, Tad and now Ben who also needs to get to a scout meeting. Then I toss sausages, buns and paper plates at the table and inform everyone to eat, clean up and put on pajamas. They manage to do this in time to sit them all in front of a movie (Meet the Robinsons - review coming in another post) and finally relax somewhat except for Noah who is running around like a crazy person laughing maniacally. My pregnant bum can no longer move but Adora is nowhere to be found by David who goes in search of her. I lift my pregnant bum off the sofa and manage to manipulate a very heavy Noah into his crib for bed. My body is truly done now.

In the meantime, there are several more calls from this morning's caller which I ignore. This person has caused enough grief in my day and I've found out since then that I've been totally manipulated. The unhappiness settles on me like a blanket. Jesus Time happens with everyone together in the living room after the movie and I send everyone off to bed. A private conversation with Adora yields yet more information about just how manipulated I've been and it just seeps into my skin. Then I do the only thing I know how to do when I'm this frustrated - I order a pizza.

In the meantime, Miah wakes up and cries and fusses for a few more minutes. He finally gets settled back to bed. The pizza arrives and now Ruth is screaming bloody murder in her room. I go in and ask why she is screaming. Are you in pain? No. I can't get to sleep. Oh good grief, close your eyes and try. There is no peace in my day - or my night apparantly.

Tad and JT finally arrive home from the soccer game just a few minutes after that and I beg him to go and be nice to Ruth since I did a lousy job at that. He leaves, comes back shortly and announces that Ruth is sound asleep. Hmmmm...

With Tad home, the pizza eaten and everyone momentarily quiet and either sleeping or headed in that direction, I take my tired, frustrated pregnant dupa to the sanctuary of my own bed. It's been a long, terrible, no good, lousy day and I just want a Reset button.

Now What?

Last night I finished reading Frederica Mathewes-Green's book Facing East: A Pilgrim's Journey Into the Mysteries of Orthodoxy. It is a wonderful introduction to Orthodoxy from someone who's been there, done that and noticed all the idiosyncrasies along the way. Khouria Frederica went from hippie to Episcopal priest's wife to mother of an Antiochian Orthodox church and, not only lived to tell the story, but took a year out of the life of their growing church to do just that. She has a wonderfully witty and engaging writing style and a very simple way of explaining what seems like some of the more complex ways of the Eastern Orthodox faith. I believe I have her to thank for the rather quick seeping in of the Orthodox life into my heart and thought-life. There is so much to learn, so much to experience and yet now I feel like I have at least my big toe in the door. It was also fun to read about things like Megan's nose piercing and then find an email in my in-box from the same - only about 10 years later in life sans piercing. It's really an unfair advantage I have in my budding friendship with Khoria Frederica's daughter...

But the question is, what do I do now? I've gotten through the introductory material and where do I go from here? I've ordered her next book (can't remember the title) but I'd really like to explore the idea of icons and personal devotion more (yep, she has a book on that too). I find myself quite taken with the Orthodox icons and find they can carry me much deeper toward Christ than any other devotion I've toyed with (which has been many) over the years.

Well, I guess I'll have to give poor Patrick O'Brien his due and pay more attention to the sea-faring journey sitting in my bathroom which I've been reading in snatches. There's also that Bradley birth workbook that needs some going through as well...plenty to read there until I get my next amazon order on my doorstep....