As I share my journey on the greater pilgrimage that is now my life, I thought it would be good to share a bit about my background. A nice gentleman over on X asked me about it and we’ve chatted a small bit about our respective journeys. It’s been good for both of us, and I decided that sharing some of that here would be a good thing.
Before I go any further, I remind you that I am not a theologian, or a priest. What I share is not definitive: it is simply what I have learned and/or think at the time. As I continue to learn (and I hope to do so up until the last moment of this life) my thoughts may change or mature as new information is presented. I not only want to share the good things; but, also, some of the mistakes so that others might avoid and/or learn from them.
As regular readers know, I was not born into Orthodox Christianity. I am a convert who is working to learn more about my faith. Part of doing so means understanding where I came from religiously, as that shapes some of my thoughts as well as previous impressions of Orthodoxy. The fact is, I had a bad impression of Orthodoxy as a child, having been told that it was backwards and a “mean” religion (possibly even a cult). Now, who told me that, or heavily implied it, is something I don’t remember — though I do have some suspicions.
I was born and raised in a Methodist family. Mom was Very Methodist, while Dad had converted from the Baptist church when he married my mother (I think). In some respects, my Dad was not an overtly religious man. He had Faith, but didn’t flash it around and was, on occasion, more than happy to skip church on Sundays. He was very much a “pray in the closet” man.
My mother, on the other hand, was the one who insisted on appearances and being seen in church on Sundays. When I say she was Very Methodist, her family had been a part of the Methodist church for generations. She was very proud of the fact that we were direct descendants of George Foster Pierce and his father Lovick Pierce, who really built a lot of the Southern Methodist Church and helped found Wesleyan College in Macon. George was, in fact, served as Bishop in the church. There were portraits and pictures of them in our house when I grew up, some of which were donated to the museum at Epworth.
For all that we attended church almost every Sunday, and said a blessing before each meal, religion was not really a part of everyday life as I remember it. When I was young I did vacation Bible school and such, but there were no regular prayers or other activities within the home. Faith was there, but it was quiet and not something for public consumption. We had our Faith and belief in God, but it was not broadcast. In looking back, I suppose part of that was because of the old societal norm of not bringing up politics or religion in public. My uncle James was a local elected official (and National Commander of the American Legion at one point) and when socializing one took care not to cause a scene.
Mom was very proud of our heritage, which also included various kings and other notables, including a lot of preachers. She was an accomplished genealogist, and while it was a hobby she received a number of accolades from various societies for her meticulous work and multiple legal proofs for each step. As a kid, I was much more interested in the cattle thieves and the man disowned for being a playboy than in the preachers. I enjoyed that my Scottish ancestors included not only cattle thieves but that I was a direct descendant of Duncan who was slain by the traitor MacBeth, or that through my Dad, Charlemagne. Dad and I donated all her work to the Ellen Payne Odom library so it wasn’t lost.
My mother was also very into the idea that the family would rejoin high society. The interactions we had with high society did not give me a high opinion of the people involved. As an aside, the more I have met of many members of high society, that opinion has lowered. I do believe my Dad shared my opinion, as for all that he had been a farmer and then a farm supply salesman, he had been introduced to high society in Washington DC during his first hitch in the Marines and his family had also enjoyed some high-level contacts with senators and such before the Great Depression.
Now, one other factor in this part of my background is that I was a sickly child, having been born allergic to almost everything. It took years of shots, three times a week, to get it down to a manageable level. Add to it that I wasn’t the most coordinated and graceful person, and it meant I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. It also didn’t help that my mother was constantly reminding me that without her I would die and if not for her I would already be dead. She was unhealthily obsessed with me, my life, and her plans for my life. Being a Boy Scout and getting away every now and then, did wonders for me. I just hate seeing what Scouting has become, btw. So glad I was an old-way Eagle, and even earned a few other awards.
So, parts of my childhood were idylic, and parts were a nightmare. Sadly, probably about average in some respects. There are some things from the nightmare side that I will not share here yet; but, the wounds to my soul from them are the cause of some of my hardest struggles in this new life so they need to be acknowledged.
Much of my early learning of theology and related goes to two particular preachers: Reverend Wilson and Reverend Key. Reverend Wilson was a quiet, gentle man who had a deep faith and a solid knowledge of Methodist dogmatics. He taught me the basics, and did his best to handle some of my most interesting ideas and suggestions. I remember not being particularly happy as a very young child with his response to my question about if animals could go to heaven, and his patience with me. I also think he was the one who had to deal with my suggestion that if we wanted Christ back now, why not take communion, spit it out when the grape juice and crackers became the body and blood of Christ, and then put all the pieces back together. My mind always has gone in interesting directions… Reverend Key was, in my opinion, one of the finest theologians in Methodist history. He had a sharp mind, and he really did shape a lot of my early beliefs. I was sorry when his time at our church was up.
I’m not sure of the progression in terms of who came and went, but somewhere around my junior year of high school, we got a preacher who caused me to leave the Methodist church. I got the impression he wanted to become a major tele-evangelist and our church to become a mega-church. My beef with him came when he refused to go see my grandmother as she was dying because she had no money to leave the church. He flat out said so to my mother — and I’m amazed to this day that she did not kill him on the spot. Think she was too, and said later she was so stunned she just stood there.
As for me, I left the Methodist church for the Episcopal. That’s a story for another day. If you have questions about this part, ask away and if I can answer I will. There are a few things I can’t share, and if I can’t I will tell you so and also do my best to tell you why I can’t answer.
More soon.
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