He chastens and hastens his will to make known;
the wicked oppressing now cease from distressing:
sing praise to his Name, he forgets not his own.
Isn’t life funny? I was planning on writing a blog about my weekend spent with dear friends and family and how that relates to the idea of community and how true community is such an incredible, amazing blessing. And then Monday made me resent community and prefer to be invisible. And now it is Wednesday and I am feeling unexpectedly encouraged after a chance conversation with my dear friend’s husband.
Let me explain.
There is a favorite quote of mine, one that puts into words my feelings about my faith that I am unable to explain without it. It is an excerpt from “One Flew Over the Onion Dome” by Fr. Joseph Honeycutt and reads, “One thing is certain and bears repeating: You cannot be Orthodox alone. Those who try are handicapped. We work out our salvation in community. That community, the one that God provides for us, is full of sinners and will never be perfect in and of Her individual members. The Church is a spiritual hospital. Communion is the medicine of immortality. Love is paramount. With this in mind, Converts to American Orthodoxy and Cradles, struggle toward salvation together, intentionally, in community.”
I am reminded of this quote when my “spiritual family” gathers together over good food and wine. My spiritual family is a collection of people who at one time attended the little Orthodox parish on LaSalle Street that I still call home. To explain how we are technically related gets pretty confusing, as it is a mix of blood relatives, college roommates and a godparent family tree that would make your eyes cross.
There was a time when I would have favored a fancy night out on the town, but now - knowing the encouragement of this community we’ve built together - I would much rather spend my night with these friends, location secondary. While the kids play with water balloons or are finally settled in bed, secret thoughts are confessed. “I am not sure who to vote for . . .” “I thought everyone hated me . . .” Words of encouragement and support are offered, from someone who shares your same world view. Through these conversations over the course of the last four years, I’ve grown in my own faith - understanding, cherishing and appreciating it in a way I could never have predicted. When I leave these gatherings my soul feels restored.
Then Monday I was reminded of a different community I am a part of and how I let that community down. I’ll spare you the details, but the notification of how I’d completely spaced on a responsibility was pointed and less than understanding. The weird thing is I didn’t feel as bad as the person seemed to want me to feel, as it was a simple mistake. But I was mad that I was called out in front of a group of people in an unprofessional manner, but I was mostly mad at myself - both for not fulfilling my responsibility and for letting myself get pissed about the approach. Mostly I just wanted to hide under my bed and quit everything. Dramatic? I suppose. But like it or not, being in community comes with responsibility.
On Tuesday I let my coworkers know that I was cranky - an admission that would both force me to put on a happier face and maybe get them to cut me a little slack if I wasn’t immediately successful. That confession was quickly followed by one of those tough business meetings you leave just feeling shitty. Hum.
So it is Wednesday and I am still a touch on the cranky side. I got home from Vespers and called a friend to catch up. She wasn’t home, but her husband was and I ended up talking to him for a while. “I just really like you; I don’t know why,” he told me, which made me laugh. “You are happy and love life and deserve someone who loves you for just who you are, really. You deserve that - don’t settle, I mean it.” It was an unexpected piece of advice, somehow stumbled upon from the initial exchange of general pleasantries and work updates.