Be the Person You Needed When You Were Younger
Be the Person You Needed When You Were Younger
October 30, 2023
Watching a documentary recently about the detrimental and life-threatening struggles thousands of homeless children face, I was struck by the following words of one of the counselors: “Be the person you needed when you were younger.” The often-quoted words are believed to originate from Ayesha Siddiqi, an author and children’s advocate. The counselor made this impassioned plea to those who might be able to support the admirable work of helping homeless children. Those of us fortunate enough to live in relative peace and prosperity rarely think, for very long, about those considerably less fortunate than us. Understandably, we get caught up in our own world and may only take a few moments to think about or help those less privileged and in need. To be sure, those needing everything from a warm smile, a compassionate ear to a good meal, are all around us if we just took the time to look and think and act. When we act, listen or think only a portion of the time about others, we are not being the person that others need. (more…)
Through the generosity of the editors of “Orthodoxy in Dialogue,” we are pleased to re-post a wonderfully sincere and poignant piece entitled “A Gay’s Man Dormition Story”, published on their website on August 15, 2023, by an anonymous source. Please read the full article by following the link to “Orthodoxy in Dialogue” below, following the first paragraph of the work. 
Seminarians, those preparing for the priesthood, frequently speak of having a “calling” to sacred orders. When I was in Seminary, the students often shared the moment, event, or path that led them to the desire to become a priest. Some stories were somewhat dramatic and could be tied to a specific time, others described a process, at times a lengthy one, culminating in them applying to Seminary. Each story was uniquely different and quite personal to each person. And even after years of arduous study, numerous liturgical services, private prayer hours, and participating in hours of conversations with those who would become lifelong friends, some concluded that they were not called to the priesthood. At the culmination of years at the Seminary, some were ordained, and others were never ordained. Each seminarian heard a different voice, a different calling from God, not only to enter Seminary, and “test” their vocation, but also discern when it was time to ask for ordination from the bishops. The same God was speaking differently to each of us, and we each heard different things, and acted in different ways, based on what we heard. 
“Torch Song Trilogy,” written by Harvey Firestein in the 1970s, is a collection of three one-act plays in which the main character, Arnold Beckoff, wrestles with how to live his life, as a gay man, in a post-Stonewall New York City. Central to the plot of the story, later turned into a movie, are Arnold’s relationships with boyfriends, co-workers, his adopted son, and his mother. Arnold’s mother has a difficult time accepting her son’s homosexuality, and questions why he can’t just settle down and marry a “nice Jewish girl”. Arnold is frequently agitated and unhappy with his mother’s refusal to believe that he was “made this way”, in other words, made gay, by God. In one very funny scene, Mrs. Beckoff, “Ma”, in exasperation that her son thinks he knows more about his life than she does, states, “God, doesn’t know, my son knows.” 
The Orthodox has many rules and directives for priests. One that I frequently violated was serving the Divine Liturgy from memory and not reading from the service book. The sacred services of the Church are quite beautiful and deeply rooted in Scripture as well as the writings of the Holy Fathers. The words and symbolic gestures used in the Divine Liturgy in particular recall for us the life of Christ and his salvific work for those who believe in Him. From the prothesis (proskomedia or offering preparation) which embodies the place (the cave) and time (Christmas) of the birth of Christ, through the Lord’s ascension and His promise to return represented by the blessing the faithful with the chalice after receiving the Eucharist – we are invited to participate in the truth that is Jesus Christ and the beauty that is the Orthodox Church. 
One of the things that good teachers know is that there is no such thing as a stupid or wrong question from their students. To suggest to a student otherwise is to immediately shut down the possibility of further learning by the student. Every teacher has encountered numerous instances in class when a student raises their hand and begins with one of these phrases “I know this is a stupid question… OR… I am probably wrong but…” It takes a lot of courage for many students to raise their hand, risking judgment by their teacher as well as their peers, to ask a question that might be perceived by others as a stupid one or the wrong one. To dismiss that student’s question is the complete opposite of what teaching is all about. The Socratic method of teaching, based on asking and answering questions, promotes critical thinking and draws out new ways of thinking and understanding. 
In preparation to be ordained a priest, I spent four years studying in a seminary. They were some of my life’s best, yet most challenging years. I met those who would become lifelong friends. During those years I tested and questioned myself more than almost any other time in my life. While discerning a calling to the priesthood is demanding, it is even more so for a gay man. I knew that a calling to serve God in His Church was a blessing, I just had to figure out what that meant exactly and how to carry my calling out. In other words, it was a considerable mystery to me. It was a blessing that was also a mystery. 
In high school, I had only one good, best friend. The reason for this was probably the way I saw myself and the fact that I frequently tried to hide, not wanting to call attention to myself. When you were a fat, gay teenage boy, in the late 1970s living in the suburbs there were not many opportunities to be proud of who you were. Of course, I knew that my parents loved me, although my father constantly commented on my weight, but it was not the same as having a true friend, one in whom I could confide, sharing my thoughts and dreams. Finally, late in my junior year, I told my best friend that I was gay. Although not attracted to him at all, I did hope that there was a slight possibility, that he was gay as well. The reaction that I got from him was utterly devastating. He told me that homosexuals were horrible people, and then he threatened to tell my parents my deepest secret, which I thought would be safe with my best friend. I was instantly terrified. The idea of my parents finding out my secret was devastating to me.