He’s young, in his mid-thirties, and moved here from Romania ten years ago. He was ordained just five years ago, and we are the first parish he’s served as a priest. His wife is a doctor, or so I heard, and they’re living in Massachusetts (with their daughters, ages nine and three).
He also has an amazingly sweet countenance and does not stop smiling.
In his homily, he spoke of serving the parish, putting Christ at the center, and being a parish that serves one another and our community. I’m so excited to have a young, vibrant, caring priest for our little flock. I didn’t get the chance to speak with him after the Liturgy, though it might have been odd to say, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I won’t be here for the next three or four weeks. So, uh, see ya around!” Or perhaps, “Hey, I’ve been to your country! See you in a month.” (yeah, maybe not…)
Still…
You know, it’s not a need for attention. I don’t have any particular desire to stand out in a crowd, and I don’t aspire to be the ‘it’ gal. But there is something about the lack of fellowship that withers the soul. I feel as though I could be the only person at Liturgy week in and week out, and it really wouldn’t be that different. I’ve tried, and perhaps I’ve failed. Or perhaps it was never possible to succeed.
God is God, and I am not, and while my spirit aches in this difficult season, I still somehow know that this is where I am supposed to be. I can say that and I believe that and yet I will openly say that this inner turmoil and spiritual limbo really bites the big one. That’s just the way it is.
I know what you mean. I converted into a very small and dying parish in upstate New York 8 years ago after becoming convinced of the truth of Orthodoxy via online conversations with a friend. My friend was fortunate to belong to a vibrant and young mission parish, so his spiritual life was being fed in ways mine certainly wasn’t. After about 4 months I ended up moving to North Carolina to be in that parish, and while it probably wasn’t the canonically right thing to do, I haven’t regretted it.
You have family ties where you are and probably don’t have the option of finding a different parish, so I’m sure my example is no help. Still, there must be ways for you to be in contact with Orthodox Christians in similar situations. Have you considered finding an OCF group nearby, or going on a mission trip, or to a camp or a retreat somewhere? Is there a monastery within a reasonable drive you could visit? It’s possible that advice to try harder may be the right one, but the trying may need to happen somewhere other than in your parish.
Your new priest could be of some help to you. His responsibility is to the needs of his flock — everyone, including you — and he has resources in your region you don’t know about. I’m sure he can help you figure out what it is you need and then help you find it.
Have a great trip! Do let us know if there is something you need that we other Orthodox on your friends list can help you with. The internet is a great resource for those of us looking to connect with people of like minds and similar spiritual struggles.
I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it to you, but I go to New Life in Biddeford, one of the biggest churches in Maine – and I know that this is where I’m supposed to be right now. The head pastor and worship team are amazing, etc., and there’s several people around my age – and I have made overtures. I have talked to them. I was in Thailand for TWO WEEKS with some of them. I have made plans with them, only to have the plans broken. They’ll smile and say hi at church, but even when I try to talk to them, I feel like I’ve failed some sort of test and will never be able to be friends with them. A woman that I’d seen every weekend for four years asked me last fall if I was new.
I’ve been in the church for five years, and aside from my family, probably about ten people would care if I died. If I was laid up in the hospital, I’d imagine there might be two people who visited if they knew I was hurt.
It’s so frustrating, and I wish I wasn’t so lonely, but I don’t know what else I can do.
And, um. Sorry for the additional rant?
I’m so sorry you are struggling with this. This is a constant source of struggle for me, as we are military family and move every few years and must start over. Starting over in an Orthodox parish is 50 times harder than it was when we were Orthodox. Sometimes I think the very nature of Orthodoxy, with its overtones of timelessness and eternity, seems to make the people thi they have all the time in the world to do the things they should. It takes a LONG time to break into an Orthodox parish, especially one with any kind of strong ethnicity. Usually, two or three years into it, about the time we are moving, I quit getting asked if I’m new every week. Sad state of affairs.
Man I so so so SO hear you. It took me two years at church before I really felt friendly with anyone. And even now I only have about three really good friends. Hang on in there.
Thank you so much. Your thoughts were a great blessing :-)
In many ways, this is a New England thing as much as it is an Orthodox thing. Most churches have struggled to survive here, and I’m sure there’s some fascinating cultural context for it, but we are the ‘frozen chosen’. The ‘Great Black North’. It’s a sad reality.
That said, I don’t know of any monestaries in this area. I went to a pan-Orthodox young adult retreat last September, and I had a fabulous time. Unfortunately, no one there lived remotely near me. My school does not have an OCF; in fact, our school chaplain said I was the first Orthodox student she’s met. School fellowship is difficult because I commute so far from home, but at this point, if there was a group I would be there in a heartbeat.
On a more positive note, I do look forward to getting to know our priest. And I’ll just keep praying that opportunities present themselves for real frienship with like-minded believers.
No worries :-) It’s sadly comforting to know I’m not the only one struggling…
Thanks :-)
Yes it is. And I’m sorry to hear that you deal with it too. In many ways the Orthodox people I’ve met online are my community, though it’s never quite the same as seeing each other face-to-face.