Part II: About my Conversion to Eastern Orthodoxy

[continued from Part I]

While the charismatic Catholics had not convinced me of the legitimacy of the charismatic movement, they did introduce me to the little, to me unknown, school of Franciscan University of Steubenville. They told me it would be a great place for me to attend. At the time, I simply smiled and said I would look at the brochures they gave me. After I left the group, I worked at home for several months. I was still depressed and ill, and extremely frustrated that medicine, doctors and prayer were not apparently helping me. I ruminated on my possibilities. I considered working towards an M.A. in English, but, to be honest, I considered myself not in a good position for this. I was spiritually and mentally exhausted from my years of college study, at a time when I was at the lowest point in my life. In many of my classes, I felt as though I were the sole student on the side of traditional values, be they Catholic or Protestant. I did not want to spend two years of my life studying Derrida, Foucault and a host of other thinkers who I then considered to be deranged and opposed in their ways of thinking to the Truth. I did, however, want to move ahead in my life, regardless of the difficulties besetting me. I opted for studying theology at the M.A. level. I investigated several programs, some well-ranked and in appearance quite intellectually challenging. I chose the M.A. in Theology at Franciscan University. While I understood the program there might not challenge me as much as, say, a similar program at CUA or the University of Scranton, I wanted a spiritually alive environment, a place where I could development the human relationships that I was deprived of for the past several years.

I entered Franciscan University in 2005. I still confessed Catholicism as my religion, but in reality I was a closet Orthodox. Although I retained a strong admiration for traditional Latin religion until my final year, my identity with the Orthodox Church became increasingly prominent. I attended a Byzantine Catholic church nearby for two years, and during this time I developed a awareness of the differences between Eastern and Western ways of thinking. The many friendships I developed, including those with Eastern Catholic Christians, more firmly secured me in the Eastern tradition. But here I began to act differently from my friends. Whereas they were content and desiring to remain Eastern Catholic, I internally could not acquiesce to the unique Eastern Catholic positions. I fancied in a kind of Branch Theory whereby both Orthodox and Roman Catholics were equally Catholic, but I could not reconcile this personal belief with the formal credences of either Church body. The Pope of the Roman Catholic Church promulgates Latin ecclesiology as the standard for full catholicity. The Byzantine tradition cannot suffer this; while not mutually exclusive, they are different, and the differences cannot be casually disregarded. In my studies, I found the Byzantine tradition truer to the Patristic and Conciliar witness, although I acknowledged the existence of papalphil quotations going back to Pope Leo.

My social and academic experiences at Franciscan University also were important to my spiritual journey. While I cannot go into great detail here, I will simply comment that there were some experiences at Franciscan that confirmed for me that Roman Catholicism is not where I am meant to be--at least not mainstream Roman Catholicism. I became friends with two Traditional Roman Catholics, both converts from Protestantism. I spoke extensively with one friend over my first summer (we roomed in the same house) on traditional Catholicism, and it was about this time that I attended my first High Latin Masses, primarily at an indult TLM community at St. Boniface in Pittsburgh, but also once at an SSPX chapel. My other friend did not have a car, and on a few ocasions I drove her to Pittsburgh for the TLM. I hoped it would lift her spirits and make her happy (there were no TLM's in Steubenville at the time), but I also was searching for myself, and I was interested in that which I felt I was deprived for the first two decades of my life. I thoroughly appreciated the reverence of the TLM, and even to this day I have a natural affection for its beauty, even if I do not completely agree with all of its implicit theology. I graduated with a M.A. in Theology in 2007. I still was canonically Catholic, and I even received the Eucharist at Eastern Catholic churches on certain occasions, but by then I wanted to become Orthodox, and I happily would have identified myself as such, except that I did not want to indulge in a fiction. I still was Catholic (in a strange sense).

The year is 2008. Between the date of my last day at Franciscan and the present date of this composition, much has changed. 2007-2008 has, from a human perspective, assailed me with the worst situations imaginable. The depression I suffered for years worsened under the harrowing circumstances associated with my new job. God, if before seemingly distant, now appeared non-existent. How else could He allow this amount of unmitigated pain, and at so many different levels, drag the course of almost a decade, a decade oft considered "the best years of your life"? In my heart I wanted to become Orthodox. I had a good idea, based on my previous experiences, that becoming Orthodox would not be the magic cure. I did not expect full healing from conversion. But I thought, just perhaps, I would receive the spiritual healing that would enable me to effectively confront any problem the Devil placed in my way. Orthodoxy tugged me in, I think, not because of the gilded icons, the ritualism, the splendor or the antiquity, but because of the faith that could co-exist in rags as equally, if not more, as in riches. I was no longer Catholic. I would not accept Catholic communion. I no longer went to a Catholic priest for confession. But I was stranded. I spiritually grew into the sacraments, but now I was cut off from them altogether. I am half-ashamed to admit what follows. My emotional state was far from prime. A lot had happened to me over the years, and the buildup remained untouched even after the most rigorous of applications. I was in a lot of pain, but I held on to what I believed. Being rational, I was nonetheless burdened and in fear. I am not one to make major changes easily, and while I seriously spoke with an Orthodox priest about becoming Orthodox, I just did not have the nudge to make this life-changing decision. The nudge came in the form of a breakdown--another deep strike--and ironically from the direction that I considered my last tie to Roman Catholicism. In reality, I should have converted earlier. I allowed personal feelings, concerns of the world, and especially fear of the effects in the future, to hold me back, and back again, over the course of two years.

I'm now Eastern Orthodox (ACROD). I'm still far from perfect, and I still am dealing with certain difficulties in my life. I cannot say I feel better than when Roman Catholic. Orthodoxy is no sweet cake, and her leaders are not always saintly or right. The Church is not a miracle solution that with raise of the hand cancels all woes. It's a hospital for the spiritually sick, to be sure, but like most hospitals, the convalescence includes suffering. In short, I'm finding Orthodoxy twice as difficult to live as Roman Catholicism. But, I don't regret at all becoming Orthodox. It had to be done, and while the impetuous of my decision may not have been fully proper, I pray that the reasons behind the muck have been sound.