Sunday, May 24, 2026

Letting Go of Easter



All my talk about mysticism and writing at the end of January had me groping for my dormant liturgical traditions to see if their structures and rhythms might inform my approach to writing as spiritual practice. And since Lent was nigh, I figured I might as well start by taking a stab at observing it for the first time in many years. And since much of the mysticism of the Western Church began in the East—indeed it was the emphasis on mystery that drew me to the Byzantine tradition—I figured I might as well start by attending Divine Liturgy. Or watching it, rather. But I’m in good company. According to St. John Chrysostom, the angels, too, are mere spectators at the “celestial theater” of the Church. 


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In 1999 I became a catechumen in the Orthodox Church, a sort of student studying to convert. It meant leaving evangelicalism and a lifetime of distinguishing myself as the AWANA champion, Miss Conservative Baptist of Oregon 1986-87, and Jesus Nerd par excellence, teaching Sunday School and leading bible studies and worship music all the way up into grad school. My family never had the money to create the hermetically-sealed environment of private or home schooling but I certainly tried to shut out as much of the storm of secularism as I could with daily personal bible devotions, youth group, and Christian music—and tried to ignore where these spiritual and intellectual tarps leaked. In graduate school, my academic speciality was American evangelicalism and the Israel-Palestine conflict, which meant spending a lot of time in the bowels of evangelical history and theology. The growing leaks finally became a flood. I could see how flimsy and tenuous the materials of not only my cognitive coverings but even those seals that were airtight, allowing the solipsism and literalism inside to fester into something noxious and idolatrous. Evangelicalism had made graven images of the individual, the text, and even the nation-state. It was also deeply unsatisfying. I wanted God to be more than just my invisible daddy or bestie.