So I start out as Arian, then liberal, then Satanist, then apparently, my guardian angel tells me to start reading church history and I’m led toward a Byzantine Catholic Church (hell, I’d never even heard of Byzantine Catholicism until then!) where I hear my first homily. It’s the ex-Satanist’s homily. It’s about how Jesus has full control over the demonic. This homily I heard from the archpriest. Then, I get bumped to another parish that’s closer by my house. I meet up with the parish priest who turns out was an anti-Catholic and then converted.
At this point, I’m struggling with what to do with the Bible in general. I wind up dismissing it at times and finding it useful at other times. What else are you supposed to do with that book? No one “really” believes in it any way so why should I? Honestly, I hate the book at this point! I don’t know what else to do with the book. And yet, here I am–a newfound church-goer. WOW! So what am I supposed to do? Well…my dad starts pestering me with his own emergent style theology. There’s really not much discussion though to be had with someone who thinks that just because they’ve read half of the N.T. Wright books that this makes them the most qualified theologian in the world. So one night, I throw a cup at him, run off with a knife, and I damn near kill myself.
I stutter a bit in my spiritual life. I don’t go to church as regularly. But one day, I decide to go back and I talk with the parish priest and I blow up at him. There’s an ECF class that week too. I’m hesitating going to it. But I call the archpriest and we have a discussion about my broken down faith. He tells me that I didn’t lose my faith and that I should go back to these classes not trying to understand everything but taking what I can understand. Okay. So I go back. Still avoiding the parish priest though, I sit at the deacon’s table. He talks about despair. It was what I needed to hear. A cutter needed to hear that.
The next week, I purposefully sit at the deacon’s table because I want to be at his table not just because I’m avoiding the parish priest. Later that week, I write the deacon a thank you note. And that is why I’ve been talking with my deacon recently. Why is Mother looking out for me though? It’s because when I first started studying church history, I wanted to read Anglicans, Catholics, and Orthodox historians because of Mary who is a Mother. The Mother of God. Eventually, I’ll need someone else in my life other than my deacon. I’ll move somewhere else. But that’s exactly where I’ll run away and hide. In Mother’s loving, tender arms. Because Mary’s plan all along (whether I see it or not) was to have Mother be my Mother. I never knew either that Mother would hold such a special place in my life at this point either. I never knew I’d be calling her Auntie, I never knew I’d be asking her to be my godmother, I never knew I’d be calling her Mother. Yet that’s what she is to me…Mother.