Oops, I'm Supposed To Be At Church

This week. Wowzers. Woah. Whew. Holy cow. Sweet tacos. Man oh man.

Here is some word vomit about my incredibly weird week up until Saturday night. It's okay if you don't understand, because I don't understand either. But I can't talk about church without first setting the stage...

Hungover. Sexually abused child. Kitty Pryde. Run in with estranged former lover. Hip-Hop. Punched in the face. Suddenly I'm drinking beer now. Zumba. Painting in the sunshine. Headbutt to the chest. Cat bite. Wine time. Random neighborhood block party. Amish artist. Tincture? Taylor Swift. Ladybug. Hips. Love of my life. So much screaming. Death threats. Kid in psych ward. Dammit. Skype date. Sex tape? Never again. Heartbroken. Crying. Guess that's over. Glass case of emotion called a bottle of tequila. Friendship. Cigarettes. Pancakes. Dance party. Infinite sadness. Forced snuggling. My Little Pony. I hear violins. Zumba. I just want to dance until everything is normal again. Cinco de Mayo. Fishbowl Margaritas. Street tacos. Tongue? Cotton candy! Mmm, churros. Native American flutes. Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Limitless. Caesar salad. Mmm, more tequila. Drink all night! What? Uh Oh. Crap! Hurry! Conservative tights.



Woo doggy. What a week!

For several months I had been hoping to attend an Orthodox Easter service. So, I marked Sunday May 5th on the calendar in my head as the day I would visit St. Nicholas's Greek Orthodox Church. Since I missed my chance at a decent Protestant Easter service I figured Orthodox Easter was my only hope for a make-up. So naturally I spent weeks researching and preparing for the experience. Ha! Nah, I didn't research it at all. I figured I'd just show up Sunday morning and that would be that.

It was 9:38 pm and I was sitting and having a glass of tequila with my dear friend and partner in crime Rebecca.  I should look up what time church is in the morning before we drink anymore. A puzzled expression formed on my face as I read the info on my tiny iPhone screen. Huh? Well...this says...hmmm...it doesn't give a Sunday time. It says their Easter service is....oh crap it's TONIGHT! It starts at 11:00! Uh...you wanna go to church tonight?

Yes, tis true. Orthodox Easter is actually celebrated late Saturday night with a candlelight service praising the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Sunday is actually a day of feasting and merriment with a very short simple worship service. Though I love a good feast and short services, it was the candlelight service I was most interested in. Late night church! Woo!

Rebecca did not want to spend her Saturday night at church. So, I put down my glass of tequila and threw on my most conservative looking outfit that didn't show any cleavage and covered my knees. I dropped off Rebecca at her house and headed out on my church experience. I no longer get nervous about attending church - thanks Scientology - but I was nervous about walking all alone in the Central West End at night. So me and my conservative tights and calf length black dress took a 4 block jog in the darkness.

When I arrived at church people were standing in line talking and getting their Easter supplies. Like a ninja I grabbed a giant candle and quietly followed a group of people into the gymnasium where the service was being held. I found a seat on the aisle, because the idea of being trapped in the middle of a row makes me physically nauseous. This is why I always choose the aisle seat on airplanes and at theatres, because I don't like feeling trapped. I need complete freedom at all times!

It was really dark, but you can kind of make out the booklet

I was 5 minutes early, but the service had already started. A man was speaking over the loud speaker and a woman was singing - in Greek. I felt confused and never stopped feeling confused. On my seat was a booklet of the Easter Service. The booklet had the soft feel of paper worn from years of use - kinda like vintage Time magazines you find at Flea markets only softer. I opened the booklet, which contained both the Greek and English versions of the service, although almost all of the service was spoken in Greek. I turned through the pages trying to figure out where we were but got distracted by the sheer volume of the book. Sixty pages? Holy crap! How long does this thing last?!?

 I would never learn the answer...

The gym was fragrant from the hundreds of flowers and plants arranged at the front of the room. There were multiple giant wreaths that nearly reached the ceiling. Portraits of Jesus were on easels on the stage along with various rows of candles. I watched as a priest in a beautiful robin's egg blue robe with yellow embroidery silently lit each of the candles in a very deliberate order.

Do you enjoy standing? For long periods of time? Late at night? In the dark? While someone is sing-speaking words you don't understand? Then the Greek Orthodox Easter service is right up your alley. They stand up pretty much the whole time. Why, you ask? Well, because one should stand up for Jesus of course. Which, though I'm not a Jesusy person, I kind of agree with. This is supposedly the savior of all mankind we are celebrating. The least you could do is stand up and refrain from yawning.

Slowly, the room started to fill up with people dressed in their Easter finest. Most men were in suits and ties. I saw a lot of women in sparkly pant suits. There was also another group of women draped in white flowy gauze with shawls round their shoulders and heads. At 11:15 the room was half full. By 11:30 only a few seats were left in the large gym. Then at 11:45 it was standing room only. I was slightly irritated - Have some respect people. Are you seriously showing up 45 minutes late to Jesus's resurrection celebration. This is kind of a big deal, isn't it? Get here on time! But apparently, this is  fairly normal and perfectly acceptable.

Suddenly, the sing-speaking stopped and ALL the lights in the room were turned off. Then from behind the red curtain came a single light. Carefully, the priest walked out of the curtain and other priests (or priests in training) lit their candles off the one light. Slowly the light grew through the giant audience until the room was illuminated. This is what I wanted to experience  - the power of darkness changing into light from one single flame. It was powerful and magical.

But one single flame didn't actually banish the darkness. It started the lighting. Sharing the light is what banished the darkness. The start was important, absolutely, but sharing, sharing changed everything and illuminated what was once unable to be seen. The light you carry can change the world, but only if you share it. Sure, it can help you navigate the dark hallways of your house. BUT if you share it, it can help everyone navigate the darkness of the world. Woo. Powerful. It's starts with one single flame from which we are all connected. There is no light that doesn't come from the ONE. No light burns brighter than another. No light is more special than another.

It's now after Midnight and I was told that at Midnight we would yell out "Christos Anesti" and hug and kiss each other and flood the streets with our newly lit candles. Well, I was told wrong. Because apparently, an hour into the service, it had only just begun. No wonder the candles are giant - they have to last 3 hours.

The sing-speaking started up again and we went through a series of standing, crossing ourselves repeatedly, saying things in Greek and then sitting briefly before starting it all over again. There were a few call and response things, but most of the speak-singing was done by a choir or the priests. Around 12:40 I finally found where we were in the service - page 35 of 60. We still had Communion and several more call and response things along with many many prayers to get through. I desperately needed to use the bathroom and I had no idea how I would navigate the whole candle thing and use a toilet at the same time. Plus, honestly, the idea of kissing and hugging strangers was making me very anxious. I'm not really a "hugger". So, my need to pee combined with my lack of desire to kiss strangers resulted in me leaving the service early.

Lots of people were leaving early. It was nearly 1 am. You are supposed to keep your candle lit and carry it home with you in order to light your house. I wasn't sure how I could drive all the way home with a lit candle so I blew it out. Sorry Jesus. Safety first. Then I stuffed all my valuables in my bra for fear of being mugged and hightailed it back to my car.

This week nearly did me in.  Church revived me. Well, church and tequila and friendship and how awesome St. Louis is and churros probably didn't hurt either. Still, every week God reveals something to me and I'm always shocked and surprised like, Hey! I didn't know you were still paying attention. The amount of shitty things happening seemed to indicate that you were off on vacation. But nope. God's light still shines, even when I can't see it.

I got to sleep in Sunday morning. Woo! Shortly after waking I got a text photo of the beautiful new little girl, Madrid Rose, who has just begun her journey on this Earth. I burst into tears. (New babies make me cry, but especially babies from close friends I've known since 1st grade.) I started thinking about my week and I took a deep breath and I decided that everything was going to be okay. (I have these moments a lot. There may or may not be a slightly ridiculous amount of completely self-inflicted drama in my life.) Then God confirmed it via George Michael.

Because first George Michael wrote this:

 

 

 

And then George Michael wrote this:

 

 

 

Yes. God speaks to me through song sometimes. I'm just special like that.

 

Anyway.

 

May your week be filled with light and love readers.

 

Namaste

(the light in me bows to the light in you) ♥