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Sunday, May 26, 1974
Before I began to drive a car, my habit on Sundays was to walk home from church when weather permitted.
On the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, 1974, I walked home from church during that bright, summer-like morning. Not yet in college, I was not free or confident enough to walk home barefoot, althought that would have been very nice. Although I have forgotten what the Scripture readings were, I do remember spending the whole walk home convinced more that I had ever been, to date, that I wanted to be immersed in a knowledge of early Christianity. This seemed to resonante inside me with each step I took. As I turned on to the dead end street on which we lived, the last street westward in our rural village, I could smell the fragrance of my father's rotiserrie chicken---already cooking over the fire outside, and a traditional Memorial Day treat in our family. And yet not even this could intrude upon my desire to be immersed in knowledge of early Christianity.
I realized, this morning, while listening to music on the Orthodox Church's streaming radio that I have been brought to that immersion by converting to Orthodox Christianity.
J-Called
