This article has appeared in Handmaiden and was taken from the August 2006 newsletter of St. John the Forerunner Orthodox Church.
An Owned Devotion
By Kristen Michealis
In all the time that I’ve been Orthodox, I’ve only really ever been devoted to one saint – my patron, St. John the Wonderworker of San Francisco and Shanghai. All the other saints were just names listed on calendars whose stories I heard piecemeal.
Included in my lump of “other saints” was our most blessed Lady Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary. Oh sure, I understood much of her theological value. I understood the Church’s teachings and pious beliefs concerning her. But, I was not what I would call devoted. I might have thrown a random prayer her way on occasion in addition to the usual prescribed ones, hardly anything special. I just didn’t have a real relationship with her. I’d listen to liturgical music addressing her and think it lovely, but I didn’t own the words if I sang along. Anyhow, all that changed one Saturday afternoon not so long ago.
On that particular weekend my husband Steve and I were at his parent’s house to celebrate some family birthdays. With everyone there for so many days, it was inevitable that things would get tense. By everyone, I mean my husband and his sister. They really can’t be around each other for more than a day before she starts getting easily offended and flustered by virtually everything he says and d oes. S he‘s a sw eet woman, really. But she just d oesn‘t und erstand his hum or, and he doesn‘t understand her boundaries. They simply rub each other wrong.
On that afternoon, we were all lounging in the living room on the extraordinarily spacious leather furniture with the exception of Jill, who was napping. Perched in an inviting chair, I quietly read my book while keeping half an eye on my surroundings. Steve and his sister were kind of poking at each other on the couch in that warm, affectionate way that siblings do, and she saw that one side of my husband ‘s cross has the Theotokos on it.
“Who’s that on your cross?,” she asked.
“It’s Mary, the Mother of God.”
“Mary isn’t the Mother of God.”
I looked up from my reading.
“Oh, come now. Of course she’s the Mother of God,” my husband
began. “Is Jesus God?” he asked.
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