Ok...for some people, the title to this blog entry may bring back nasty flashbacks of the sixties and anti-Vietnam war protests, and some may start reciting the "Alice's Restaurant Masacree" (with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and other phenomenon), but in my case, it is true. I truly did get drafted....just not by the US military. I was drafted by the priest where I attend church to do something very important.
A little background: I attend an OCA church that is overwhelmingly Russian (or at least old Soviet). I honestly think I am the only regular adult parishioner who can not speak Russian. So, because I can walk, and it is Orthodox, I walk to this church every Saturday and Sunday for Vespers and Liturgy. I follow along with the services in the Svit prayerbook; it's the only way I could follow! Where I get lost is the sermon; Father gives it in Russian, and all I can do is smile and nod politely. However, Father noticed a chance for me to give also, and has made me do so.
Since about Thanksgiving time, I have given the epistle reading in English. How overwhelming. Who am I to say anything about God through the writings of St Paul? However, since I was asked to, how can I say no? So, I didn't.
At first, I thought that there was no purpose to this other than to show those who couldn't speak Russian that they are welcome also. Let's face it; in the Northeast, church attendance is down, and churches are closing. The current church I attend would have closed if Father had accepted an offer to go to Poland to a university there about eight years ago. He decided to stay and keep the church open. If he hadn't made that decision for me those years ago, I wouldn't have been drafted.
However, a recent talk by a man who grew up in the parish shed some new light on this for me also. He talked about growing up here and going to church here and how in his youth, it was so crowded on holidays that police were needed for traffic control; in fact, the two blocks surrounding the church were shut down for safety reasons. He talked with zeal about his favorite memories from this church growing up. Then it dawned on me: he was speaking in English! OK, I understand THAT shouldn't have been a "revelation" since I like to think I have excellent command of the English language myself. Yet, it wasn't until I thought about the fact he WAS speaking in English to a bunch of Russian immigrants in the USA that I realized how important I am now to keeping this church open and alive. It isn't that I can speak English; it's that many Americans (myself included) can not speak Russian. This isn't a Russian Church; it's an Orthodox Church. This isn't a "Russian" community; we are God's children. All God's children must be made welcome in His house of worship.
I realize now how I am to be that welcoming person for the non-Russian speaking person who wants to come here. I am to be as welcoming to them as I was welcomed by all here, because I was welcomed. No one told me I did not belong because I was unable to speak Russian. No one told me to go seek those who spoke my language. No one told me to leave. Everyone has shown me they want me to stay. Father has given me work to do. How can I say no?
I only pray I do not let my parish, my priest, and God down, as I have so often in my life. Please pray for me also; I need them more and more.
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