“As [Saul/Paul] neared Damascus on his journey, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice say to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute Me?’ ‘Who are you, Lord?’ Saul asked. ‘I am Jesus whom you are persecuting,’ He replied, ‘Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.’” (Acts 9:3-6)
That event threw Saul from his horse onto the ground, the flash of light blinded him for three days, and it turned his whole life around. That conversion experience the holy apostle Paul related three times in the New Testament. Many Evangelical Orthodox Christians have had experiences not as dramatic but nevertheless life-transforming, and they too tell it again and again.
I’ve been rereading Famous Conversions and relishing the stories of so many who came to Jesus Christ in newfound ways. Some from atheism or agnosticism, some exchanging one denomination or communion for another, some like Fr. Sergius Bulgakov from a loss of Orthodox Christianity to an intense and profound rediscovery. What a blessing to be given a newness of life such as Jesus offered to Nicodemus (John 3:3ff).
On the other hand, there are perhaps even more who have never found the faith, because they never lost it. They have gone on through life building up their unity with the Holy Trinity through prayer, fasting, suffering and overcoming suffering, heeding St. Paul’s advice to “continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12).
Like many large cities, our greater Orthodox community celebrates the Sunday of Orthodoxy each year by a common service, usually vespers. We invite some nationally recognized Orthodox speaker to enlighten us. The most prominent are often taken by other communities, or as in our case, having already addressed our joint congregation. One year we thought it a brilliant idea to invite Prof. Mircea Eliade. Everybody who has any awareness of the history of religions is familiar with that outstanding scholar. Famous throughout Europe and at the time residing in Chicago, it would be a coup to have him address our spiritual family. He has written famous works such as “The Sacred and The Profane.” In that he was a Romanian Orthodox Christian, Fr. Vasile Hategan phoned him at his office at the University of Chicago.
Fr. Hategan’s report following the conversation was illuminating if somewhat off-putting. “What is the theme you want me to speak on—my personal faith in God?” the professor inquired. “My faith is the same as a peasant woman’s.” He didn’t come to us. After my initial disappointment I thought: He’s right. That’s my faith too. My faith is my mother’s beliefs enhanced by the dear women I’d grown up watching in my parish. Many of them aliens in a foreign land, confronting and dealing with daily obstacles—husbands’ problems, children’s constant demands, never having enough money to meet the expenses, health matters and all else that made life challenging. And yet they were always in church, whatever priest happened to be in the sanctuary, always praying for him and for all mankind with the tattered dog-eared booklets named Soul Food. Yep, that’s my faith as well. No lightning blitz, nothing to smash me to the ground, no loud voice trumpeting my name, just the ongoing struggle with demons and the joy of conquest.
We are two types—caterpillars and grasshoppers. It is imperative that we not judge one another, because we shall live forever in God’s Kingdom. There are both positive and negative traits in each. One may weather the spiritual storms that invade the purity and sanctity of the Church, while the other is always searching for spiritual experiences and has a harder time in dealing with traumas that infect the Body of Christ. The heart of Jesus has room for us all.