The Calling

Occasionally, I complete surveys as part of the PBS Viewer Advisory Panel. About a year or so ago, maybe a year and a half, one of the programs that came up on a survey was something called "The Calling", which is a documentary about people preparing to become religious leaders in Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. I have been watching for this program since then, and it finally aired in December on most PBS stations across the country as part of the program Independent Lens.

The idea of being called to be a spiritual leader is one that is fascinating to me. One thing that was really striking in this program was the extent to which spiritual leaders are often asked or need to put their personal lives and families on the backburner. The ones who were struggling the most were the ones who couldn't do this. One, the son of a chief in American Samoa, ended up leaving the ministry altogether. Another, a single mother who was ordained in the A.M.E. church, chafed at the requirements placed upon her in her first position as an associate pastor and ended up as an associate pastor at another A.M.E. church, a position she still holds, according to the website of the documentary.

Others made the decision to sacrifice their family life to pursue their religious life. Aside from the Catholic priest, who was the only one on the program required to give up the possibility of having a family, there was the Islamic chaplain who ended up pouring so much into his work and community that he ended up divorced (although he is now remarried). And then there was the Modern Orthodox rabbi who did not feel he could commit to a wife because he spent so much time traveling for social activism, despite the fact that in the Jewish community, rabbis are expected to be married and have a family, and he knew that not having one would hurt him if he wanted a position with a synagogue.

For the first time, I felt I saw the wisdom in a religious organization prohibiting marriage. This is an issue that has two sides, for sure, and I definitely think that having a family gives religious leaders important insight into the lives of their flocks. Religious groups that require celibacy have important responsibilities to include lay leadership etc. in decisions and to provide guidance. There was an article in the New York Times recently about how evangelical Christian churches often go the other way- they actively seek out ministers who are married and have families, and do not want to hire single applicants.

But it makes me think that the Armenian Church (and other Orthodox churches that have similar provisions for married and celibate priests) might get it right.

Vocations

I posted about this a while ago, but the Eastern Diocese's theme for the year is still "Vocations: A Call To Serve." The Eastern Diocese is now on Facebook, and they have posted two videos on this theme. Here is the second one.



While I still maintain that there needs to be a focus on getting young people of both genders involved in church life and especially worship, Der Mardiros Chevian brings up an excellent point- the necessity of the Armenian Church in America cultivating American-born priests.

This is in no way intended to knock priests who com from outside the US, because I have interacted with a number of truly excellent ones who have shown me terrific kindness and whom I love dearly. That said, speaking as someone who grew up in an area where there was no Armenian Church, I have found that the American-born priests that I have encountered have had a special understanding of some of the challenges that people who did not grow up in a big Armenian community face when trying to get involved with the Armenian Church as an adult.

With the Armenian Church growing and establishing parishes in places like Orlando, FL, I am sure that more Armenians like me will come into contact with a living, breathing church and have similar experiences, so having more American-born priests will help the church with growth in more ways than one.

Quick update

I haven't posted in a while because I have been feeling out of sorts.

I have still been going to church regularly, but it is a struggle to drag my butt there. I am not entirely happy with the church I have been going to, although I thought I had settled on it. I am going to try the other one again sometime soon.

I have been feeling lately like I am really a protestant at heart. Although the protestant revolution wasn't against the Orthodox Church, but the Roman Catholic church, I can really see why people would rebel.

I want the Armenian Church to work out for me; I really do. I put a high cultural value on it, and I had such a wonderful, positive experience at my old church that I want to recapture and have again.

There are a lot of issues going on for me with the church right now. A big part is that it is not social for me AT ALL. I had been warned about this before moving to Boston in general. A lot of people tend to grow up and stay in the area, so they have their own friends and aren't interested in making new ones, so they tend not to be welcoming and friendly to newcomers. (FYI, I know this isn't exclusive to this area; I have heard it's the case in other areas where you have a lot of long-time residents as well). Since I mostly run in academic circles, or other circles where everyone else has moved from somewhere else, I haven't experienced this anywhere else. Church is the one place where it's the case, and I am seeing it there. It just gets kind of tedious. A few people make an effort, but not many others, and no one my age makes an effort at all.

We will see. This isn't the only issue, but it is one of them. I am not giving up yet, but a change of environment may be necessary.

Palm Sunday

Last Sunday was my first Armenian Church Palm Sunday. We were in Boston last year, so I didn't get to go. I had heard that Palm Sunday was the best day of the year to go to church. If you only picked one Sunday to go to church, Palm Sunday was the one.

I had heard something vague about candles and children. In the "old country" (which varies, depending on where you are from. It could be Lebanon, Syria, Iran, or even Armenia), the kids used to hold lit candles and walk around the church on Palm Sunday. One lady at church told me that everyone had different candles. Different colors, different sizes, no rhyme or reason, just different festive colorful candles. My mom said that when she was growing up, the kids would have different sized candles according to their age.

Anyway, in this church, no candles. Maybe they used to do it? Looking at the kids, though, it seems like a good idea to just stick with the palm fronds. Palm Sunday, being the day to go to church, is also the day when everyone brings their tiny babies and their rambunctious toddlers, kids who are too young for Sunday School and don't normally come to church. These toddlers can handle palm fronds, and the babymommas can manage holding their infant and a palm frond, but seems like candles might not be the way to go, safety-wise.

Church was packed. The only time I've seen a crowd like this was at the funeral last November. The line for communion was incredibly long. One of the highlights was watching the priest give communion to a baby that couldn't have been more than four months old. This baby seemed to be the child of an Armenian man and an Asian woman, who must have converted, because she took communion too. The priest's face just lit up when he was giving the baby communion. I really like that this priest cares so much about making kids and their parents welcome.

I went up to him after the service and told him that, and also that I appreciated that he didn't just "phone it in" every Sunday like I have seen other priests do during my recent travels. He broke out into this huge smile and gave me a big hug. We all like to be appreciated sometimes.