A friend of mine observed how “wild” it is that I’m getting so into the church. I explained that if he had a peak into my head over the past several decades, it would not seem very surprising at all. Even since I was a kid it has felt inevitable, I just required some combination of context, education, and illumination. As a kid my parents were so against it that it wasn’t really on my radar, and the family I had that were into it either didn’t speak English, or didn’t really speak my language...if you catch my drift. 

Jack shared a few books and many conversations that I found thought provoking, and mainly defending him by proxy to our friends who were concerned about his conversion helped me to understand my own perspective. 

I tried going to Quaker meeting, and while that was nice, it didn’t feel like there was much meat on that particular bone, and what meat there was was protestant, which just ain’t for me. 

Now that the floodgates are open and the initial discomfort of friends and family thinking I’ve lost my mind has passed, it feels nice. This trip to New Skete, and the approaching second trip next weekend, feel like a real deepening of things. I suppose spending three hours in church a day for two and a half days and being exciting about doing it again will do that to you. 

Something about Orthodoxy appears to have really clicked with me. First the aesthetic, now the theology and the practice. Each thing I’ve learned has felt like it confirmed a hope.