More Theophany Thoughts

Benedicamus Domino!

As this day of Theophany comes to a close, I find myself reflecting on the road which I have walked and which truly began in earnest some six years ago at around this time. This was when the priest at the church which I attend was describing the icon depicting the Theophany of Christ and when I realized that all the fears and questions I had when I left Christianity some years before (if, of course, I had ever truly committed myself to it, that is) were without need and groundless. Here at last did I find truth where before I had felt mired in follies. Here was Christ, not some imitation or some watered-down version of Him, but Christ Himself, who had truly been baptized in the Jordan and had even truly been crucified and had risen again. Here was no emotional outpouring of affection for the "friend we have in Jesus," but a stark yet stirring description of Christ who has made it so that death cannot hold sway over us anymore. Of course, I know I will die one day, but here at last I really began to believe that this life here on earth is not the end. I came to a crossroads that day. Either Christ wasn't real at all, or he was a dead man who had taught a long time ago, or He was the Son of God, and somehow, as my priest talked about the significance of the feast of Theophany, I knew that He was who everyone said He was. I knew it, but I didn't know it in my mind. I didn't know it through deductive or inductive reasoning. I didn't know it through Aquinas-like proofs or through someone quoting Bible verses at me. I knew it because my priest and others at the table were communicating to me, both in their words and in the joy which seemed palpable as they spoke, a living tradition, as though these people were almost as the Apostles had been on that day of Pentecost so long ago when the tongues of fire had sat upon them. I came to know that day the importance of having a living tradition, a link to one's beliefs which is rooted in the heart and not just in the head or in the learning of pages and pages of church history.

The people sharing that table with me on that day were all members of one body who could witness to me and to each other in a common language and via common experience. I was brought to Christ and to Orthodox Christianity not only by books and by my own inclinations, nor even only by the beautiful music and the ritual of the liturgy, but by people, by the faith and joy of people who showed me what it was to be rooted in Christ. They didn't demand that I follow any schedules. They didn't shove pamphlets down my throat. They didn't use any kind of program to get me to join them. Indeed, if I had wanted to be a mere inquirer for these last six years, they would gladly have let me do so. What they did do was tell stories, share customs and traditions, and most importantly, they shared their joy and their courage, their God-given strength and their love. I am where I am today by the prayers of saints, by the love of kindred spirits, by the faithful planting and watering of the seed of faith in my soul of careful and loving gardeners, and by the beauty and grandeur of Christ's own self. Glory to God for all these things and for so much more that He has given me, and a blessed Theophany to all who celebrate it!

Deo Gratias!