The Joy of Spectacles

30 little boys composed my third grade class at Sycamore Park Elementary School. Mrs. Aylor said that she would have no trouble handling us because she had raised boys, and boys that had gone on to West Point. And, she was right. She did handle us! I was happy to sit near the front of the room. This has been a pattern of my life that has been followed through public school, college, graduate school, and anywhere else that I find myself, including church.

At some point in that third grade year I complained to my mother that I was having trouble seeing what was on the black board (actually they were in the green phase at that time). So, off little Jeff went to the eye doctor. My mother was horrified to find that I had triple digit vision. In other words, I was nearly blind. (I think that she still experiences some unfounded sense of guilt over this.)

I will never forget the day that I went to pick up my new glasses. I can remember walking outside the office, and glancing down at the parking lot. I exclaimed out loud, "Mom, I can see the rocks in the road!" And, indeed, I could see the rocks in the road. Apparently, up until that point they had just been a gray mass under my feet. Apparently, the trees had been green blurs, and the blue ridge mountains..., well, you get the point.

Life was all new for me from that day. There was the downside of glasses steaming up on humid or cold days, worrying about rain drops, and such things. But, these were insignificant compared to the beauty of God's creation that I could now really see for the first time. And, I didn't have to squint at the board any more.

Not being in an Orthodox church is akin to this experience. The general forms and shapes are there. But, the detail, the beauty, and the mystery is lacking. The day I walked into an Orthodox service was a day very much like the day that I put on my first pair of glasses. There was no going back.