S#it or Get Off the Pot
For several years, I managed to stay on the fringe of the Greek community. I did some work on the church website, and I would volunteer at the annual Greek Festival, but I was hardly an active member. We still only made it to Sunday service roughly once a month so “officially” joining the Church was not on my radar. I had managed to avoid that for over 16 years, and everyone was pretty used to me being the unOrthodox one in the room.
In 2016, a bus trip was planned for the seniors in the community and my wife thought it would be nice if her mother went, we signed her up. As time passed, the seniors were having trouble filling the bus and opened the registration to anyone in the community. Since neither of us had ever been to New York City, my wife and I decided to tag along and help fill the bus.
The trip was a blast. Ellis Island and the 911 Museum/Memorial are must-sees. The stories of the immigrants who risked everything to come to this country and the unfortunate souls that lost everything on Sept. 11th are both incredibly moving. The 911 Museum is still one of the most unforgettable experiences of my life. There is a room in the museum where they’ve hung a picture of everyone who died in the towers that day. To see the faces of the nearly 3000 people that died that day takes your breath away. It is heartbreaking to think of everyday people, who simply went to work, paying the ultimate price. Truly senseless.
The trip also gave us the chance to eat at some great New York restaurants, visit many of the city’s iconic landmarks, and even do a little shopping on Fifth Avenue. However, the best part of the trip was the trip itself. For the first time in 16 years, I actually felt like I was part of the church. The differences in culture and religion seem to fade away. I didn’t have to be Greek, or Orthodox, to be one of the gang. I just had to get on the bus. There is something about a shared experience that brings people together.
After we returned, I began to think seriously about why I hadn’t joined the church. Was it the fact that much of the service was done in Greek? Or that everything kinda reminded me of the Catholic Church? I honestly couldn’t say. I didn’t know much about the Orthodox, but one thing I did know, this wasn’t the United Methodist church I’d grown up in. The building, the icons, the services, and the language, were all foreign to me. I had been attending with my wife for over 16 years, which was a record (at least for me). I had never attended any church for 16 years. In fact, I’d barely attended church at all since I was a teenager, but whether I wanted to admit it or not, this had become my Church. The only thing left to do (as the saying goes) was either s#it or get off the pot.
