[Kolokotronis]

"As I observed the Divine Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, an explosion of genetic responses went off deep inside me. The sounds, the smells, the melodies, the movements, the gestures, the prayers, the people--all struck a nerve."

So true, so true, especially, believe it or not, the "genetic" part.

"Many Orthodox Christians look to Eastern Catholics and see how they have been treated as orphans and how they have been deprived of their true spiritual inheritance. Many Orthodox Christians look to Eastern Catholic churches as mirrors in which they see themselves if they were to enter into the Roman communion."

He's absolutely right, you know. While I have heard this from Orthodox Christians, I never have from a Greek Catholic. In fact, this whole article is enlightening since, aside from the well known story of +Alexis Toth, the usual word we Orthodox hear from Latin Rite Catholics, both here on FR and out in the world, about Eastern Catholics is how very awful the Orthodox have been to them and that any misunderstandings which existed in the 19th century have long since been cleared up.

[redhead]

"He's absolutely right, you know. While I have heard this from Orthodox Christians, I never have from a Greek Catholic. In fact, this whole article is enlightening since, aside from the well known story of +Alexis Toth, the usual word we Orthodox hear from Latin Rite Catholics, both here on FR and out in the world, about Eastern Catholics is how very awful the Orthodox have been to them and that any misunderstandings which existed in the 19th century have long since been cleared up."

I don't know about that part of it. Here's what I do know. I was born a Mormon. My mother took me into the Roman Catholic Church when I was a teenager. As a mature adult, I found myself strongly drawn to icons, and found that every one I picked up or looked at stimulated PRAYER. I had a small collection for years, accumulated here and there, then I inherited a beautiful collection from a friend who was a priest. When he passed away, his icon collection (and the books that accompanied it) came to me.

I know this: Whenever we visited Anchorage and drove past the St. Nicholas of Myra Byzantine Catholic Church, my heart leapt right out of the car. I knew one day I would be there.

I know this: When we returned to Alaska in August of 2005 and found the Latin rite churches so badly infiltrated with modernizers and wreckovators, we needed a home. I called the Pastor of St. Nicholas' outreach here in Wasilla, and was warmly invited to join them. We did so, not knowing what to expect, but were so well-received that we knew we would keep coming back. Since then, we have never missed a Sunday. My daughter-in-law and her children will be Chrismated this year, and I am overjoyed.

We are home.