Nostalgia
June 4, 2025
Certain memories can bring us great joy, while others can elicit sadness or even fear. Either we revel in the memory or banish the thoughts as quickly as possible. Sometimes the positive memories can be recreated, bringing us happiness, while other remembrances can only be kept alive in our memories. For example, I remember the sound of my grandmother, my babtsya, Olha, searching in her purse, while in church, to retrieve a piece of candy to give me, trying carefully not to make too much noise when opening the wrapper. This memory can only reside in my mind, and it is impossible to recreate. I will also never forget the sound of my other grandmother, my nana Florence, standing in front of her son’s casket, my uncle, crying out, “Oh, my son, my son”. This is a memory that I try to banish.
Happy memories are usually referred to as nostalgic. For me, I am quite nostalgic about Christmas Eve Supper with the traditional twelve courses (Sviata Vecheria) at my aunt’s and uncle’s home, filled with wonderful tastes, smells, and the sounds of Ukrainian Christmas carols. However, the word nostalgia was created only in 1688 by a physician from Switzerland, Johannes Hofer. The doctor observed that many of his patients, particularly soldiers, who were living far from where they were born and raised, were under extreme mental anguish. When they returned home, they died from their experiences due to living with physical and mental scars. Today, we would probably refer to this as PTSD or any depressive state. Doctor Hofer combined the Greek word nostos (νόστος), meaning home return or homecoming, and the Greek word algos (άλγος), meaning pain. He named the experience he was observing as nostalgia, or painful homecoming. Therefore, originally, nostalgia did not mean what it does for us today, the positive memories we cherish, but instead a painful experience of returning home.
For many LGBTQ Orthodox Christians, this definition of nostalgia, as a painful homecoming, can be recognizable, even palpable, whenever we go to church for divine services. The primary reason many Christians attend church is to worship Christ, to be in the presence of the divine, to pray, confess, and be part of a community unified in one mind and voice, praising God. We go to receive the mysteries, as unworthy as all humans are of them, because they are offered for the “remission of sins and life eternal.” However, LGBTQ Orthodox Christians are frequently reminded that the “official” church and almost all of its hierarchs, pastors, and members are quick to write us off, reject us, because we recognize the way God made us and who we choose to love. So many LGBTQ Orthodox Christians experience this type of nostalgia, or the pain of coming home. We long to be in Church, part of the praying community, and yet to do so, many of us feel the need to hide who we are. We are afraid to confess to a spiritual father, or even to share the simplest aspects of our daily lives at coffee hour. And so, we either choose not to go to church, as so many LGBTQ Orthodox do, or to have a very superficial relationship with it, denying ourselves the fullness of grace that is offered there.
It is vital for all people to know and remember, but especially for LGBTQ Orthodox to believe, that God created us as we are and God loves us. God gave us His Son, Jesus Christ, and we believe in Him and His message of love, forgiveness, and life eternal. Going home to the Orthodox Church can be painful for many of us. But remember that we are never alone. The Lord says: “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10) While it might require more strength than we believe we have, remember that we are not alone.