All but diss and dat

Last night she dreamed she was still in graduate school and had not yet become Doc Bubbles. One of her professors was angry with her and said she should not continue, even though the dissertation was practically complete. Not-yet-doc was devastated. She found her way to a reception desk at health services and asked what they could do for an emotional emergency and they shook their heads and said they had no time for that. Continuing to despair, she tried to decide whether being a perpetual ABD (all but dissertation) was good enough but mustered up the strength to fight, and sought out her other committee members to argue her case.

Hmm, perhaps she feels the catechumenate is like the process of initiation required for the lofty states of education.  Or perhaps she feels that this process is stripping her of these markers of her worldly accomplishments and identity.  Or both.

This catechumenate

Doc Bubbles finds this  a very strange and unsettling time, this catechumenate. A lonely time. She has left behind friends at the Methodist Church. Her husband is annoyed when he isn't just making light of it. There seems to be no clear schedule of classes to guide her through the  five months she has to wait before making confession and availing herself of the sacraments. They say you cannot be an internet Orthodox but that is mostly all she has.

Still, at Thanksgiving Dinner, she reported being thankful for that she was still, at her advanced age, learning new things. She did not specify what things, as it was a small but very religiously diverse group of people who this year managed not to get into any conversations that would make her and Mr. Crackles feel persecuted. In fact, they had a very enjoyable time, especially when they played the game Story Cubes. The silliness reminded her of the last time she taught Sunday School at the Methodists when she had the children make up a game using random objects, as an object lesson in why God provides the Ten Commandments. She felt a pang of missing those the kids and knew that, even if someday she taught SS at the Orthodox Church it wouldn't be so playful. Perhaps she will look into becoming a Big Sister.

"Say a prayer"

That was no brief little prayer and poof you're a catechumen thing. She is learning that there is no such thing as a cursory prayer in the Orthodox Church.

She stood behind Father at the door to the nave. First he faced away from her and she was confused. Then he turned around and laid his hand on her head (he hardly had to bend his arm to do this, because he is so tall and she is small and felt even smaller staring at his cassock. No wonder so many wear such high heels to church.) He prayed over her and hesitated at her name. She thought he had forgotten it and murmured it but no, it was because he was meditating for a moment on the possible patron saints she had mentioned but she guesses he was not sold on St. Isadora (her choice at the moment). So he said we'll call you (her name) (no, it is not really Doc Bubbles) for now and went on. Then he stopped and said, "Now we go to the icon" and when she looked she saw all the people who had come already for Matins were turned to face them. Of course, they would face the Priest when he was praying, but Doc Bubbles had no idea anyone was paying attention! So she was startled and touched to see that this was not just a private event, but one in which they were all participating. (It's cool the way these things happen without a lot of preparation and put it in the bulletin and this and that. It's like naturally there are going to be special ministrations.) He brought her up to the main icon of today's martyrs to venerate and then to the icon of the Virgin of the Sign that is visiting. Then he lead her over to the confessional, and explained that is where confessions take place, and there's an icon of Jesus on the wall and the Gospel Book  and a Cross  on the table. These represent the Word and God's Love and she was to kiss them.  When asked later what he told her over there, the best way she could explain it was "that's the Jesus corner." (He says everything in these unique ways that are hard to repeat.) Then he blessed her again and took her by the hand (so she wouldn't trip down the stairs) and said she could go back to her usual spot (which she has kind of settled on). But on the way many of the ladies came to say "congratulations" and "welcome" and kiss her so she felt really warm and good.

Oh and there are two Divine Liturgies to attend next weekend!

Here she goes

First Doc Bubbles had to check to see if she would have to give up paying attention to her dreams and using them for 1) poetry and 2) insight into her unconscious. Apparently, it is acceptable in Orthodoxy. Just no soothsaying. (See http://holy-transfiguration.org/library_en/ct_dreams.html.)  Got it. So she has been struggling with what Father had said to her after the Inquirer's class on Friday. He wanted to say a prayer before a service that would mark the start of her becoming a catechumen but only after she was done with the conflict of having to go back to her old church to teach Sunday School.

When she told him, Mr. Crackles got huffy: this means he doesn't even think Protestant Churches are Christian! Well, he probably doesn't, but she didn't think that was really what it was about. The Divine Liturgy teaches. She would be missing those lessons. She wouldn't yet be fully committed. It's not that she's fleeing Sodom like Lot's wife, or even quite slavery in Egypt (but Methodists do give those Egyptian slave masters a run for their money) but she needed to put her hand to the plough and not look back. She hated to let the other teachers down. They needed their breaks so they could be in the worship service sometimes. She had promised to teach. Well, originally she had offered to teach in November, but J. said they wanted the teachers to take two months at a time so could she do December as well. Doc B didn't want to say yes but she felt obliged. Now she would be letting them down for not a couple more Sundays but for more like 6. And the pageant! Maybe she can still help with the pageant.  Why is she saying that? Why is it hard to leave at all, when the Methodist worship style has left her so empty for so long now? Now that she is going, she feels a little sad and admires them: they work so hard.

So last night she dreamed she found herself at the Methodist Church and wasn't sure how she got there and why she was there. She looked up at the fake tree they cover with Chrismons in Advent. Two years ago she was introduced to the making of Chrismons and they were then to be her thing for ever. Chrismons are symbols made out of white felt and glitter modge podge. They are as close to Methodists come to icons. She saw that the tree was looking pretty good and they had managed it just fine without her.  If her dream was telling her anything it was telling her to be free like the Chrismon butterfly

and fly.  So today she wrote J an email and she was fine with taking the kids back over.

So Doc Bubbles is free to go start the process. What is she doing?!!!!!

God is not messing around with Doc Bubbles. No sirree. You want to submit to tradition and wear a pretty head scarf, you say you accept that women cannot be priests since, after all, the purpose of Divine service is not "career fulfillment," let's see how you react to the embodiment of that reality.  In the Orthodox Church, she is learning, all truth is embodied (and she loves that).  Three weeks ago a baby was churched. She had never seen this before. Father took the baby so gently in his arms, smiled lovingly, and carried her through the nave, said prayers, and finally, held her up as high as he could in front of the royal doors (and as he is tall, that is quite high!). The baby took it all in silently. Doc Bubbles thought, what a wonderful look she is getting. A peek perhaps of the holy of holies? But certainly, a bird's eye view of this place where God is worshipped. Doc Bubbles felt deeply touched.

Yesterday, another baby had been baptized on Saturday (she has yet to learn why baptisms don't take place during the main Divine Liturgy and has no doubt that Father can fully explain that) and this baby too was embraced by Father (did she hear him call him a "new warrior for Christ"?--it sounded like that, but she does not hear everything perfectly) and prayed for him through the places. Then this baby, a boy, was not just held before the iconostasis but carried in through the South Doors (she learned their name here). A shockwave rippled through her. Not because it meant boys and girls will have different roles in the Kingdom of God but because it felt like "you are excluded: you are unclean: you are inferior." Surely this is a remnant of that sense that women are unclean? Wouldn't you know, Pravmir has an article up on its page on just this topic of gendered churching that assures her that women are not 100% excluded from entering the altar: Archpriest John Whiteford writes "First off, it should be pointed out that there is not an absolute prohibition against women entering the altar. No one should go into the altar who does not have a blessing to do so. Normally, the altar servers are in fact all male, but in convents, nuns often serve as altar servers…" She can probably accept this and is praying for that. Meantime, she can peek behind the screen by watching Fountain of Immortality.

(She forgot to get to the point. Here it is.) What story does the fact that she rejoiced when she saw girl baby's churching but then, later, said, wait a minute, remind her of? Hmm, it's on the tip… oh yeah, the workers who all got the same wage whether they came late or early. The workers who came early got as much as they agreed on. They got a fair wage.  They were fine with it until they compared themselves to the late comers. Lesson: do not compare. Rejoice in your assigned joy.  And here's another point. The book she's been assigned to read, Mystery of Faith by Metropolitan Hilarion Alfeyev  mentions this about angels: "According to tradition, not all angels are equal in dignity and closeness to God: there is a hierarchy" (45). And yet, they are happy (or the ones that didn't fall for perhaps this very reason) are.