“Glory to Thee for the Faithfulness of Friends”
This phrase above from the Akathist of Thanksgiving has a double meaning, I suppose.
The faithfulness friends have to each other,
And the faith they are full of.
Glory to God, for I, have experienced both of these; and when the two come together as one phenomenon, it feels like a miracle and it aids us in our theosis. Our love for God and our love for our friends often blend closer as we learn to always see Christ in someone, despite the frailty and disappointment of human nature.
My summer on the ranch was where I first realized the reality of spiritual family. Truth be told, the homebuilding season is physically and emotionally demanding. Intensely so. Without spiritual sustenance and the support of deliberate fellowship, I highly doubt it would be sustainable for any of us. “How do you all not get injured so often?” someone asked me after I explained the nature of the work and some of the shenanigans we got up to.
“Truly? The grace of God.” This is a very tangible example, but when it comes to spiritual strength, the same thing is true. The people I spent the summer became my personal prayer warriors, my most trusted advisors and confidants, and my best friends. We underwent countless experiences--joyful, heart-rending, exasperating, miraculous, worrisome--and came out the other side just about as close as any group of God-loving weirdos can be. I learned of the power of people who pray together and for each other; who hold space for each other in their hearts; who truly demonstrate how “iron sharpens iron” and how others lead us on our path of salvation. This sense of family is a gift I have carried with me for the last year, but I could not have known how it was to multiply!
Fast forward from last summer to March 15th of this year. The beginning of COVID craziness was even crazier for me: my life turned upside down on a dime and I was left in the lurch and a bit stranded. But when God deems us worthy of those experiences, He does not leave us alone, though we may feel as such! He sent me a lifeline: the unwavering, ever-present support of a small handful of people. They have sat with me in my sorrow, shown me small joys, and most importantly they have prayed with me and for me. Because of all of this, they were also all (figuratively) holding giant, neon signs that said “Turn to God! He is asking you to trust Him with this!”
This lifeline was conceived on March 18th, mere days after I moved for the 8th time in the last year--this time on two days' notice. Schools had sent students home the week before. Churches had just shut down. I was, to put it informally, a wreck.
My friend Elise (one of PM’s very own 2019/20 summer interns) called me up. After checking in, sharing my sorrow, and helping me find some solace, our conversation went something like this:
“Faeli, my Spiritual Father has suggested that every day for the next few weeks I pray the Akathist to St. John of Shanghai.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a great idea! Have you done it yet today?” She chuckled.
“Nope. I need to, though!” I looked at the clock. It was 9:30 pm.
“Let’s do it together. Right now.”
“Over the phone? That’s...actually a great idea.”
We did it then and there. And then the next day. And then we quickly realized how this could expand and grow. Everyone was grieving the loss of church attendance. But that didn’t mean that we had to lose our fellowship. In very little time, a WhatsApp group was created, our intern friends notified, a Zoom room designated, and our Akathist group chat was born. But it didn’t stop there.
We started with just three nights a week: St. John on Thursday (with Elise and sometimes myself still doing it every day) St Xenia on Friday (that was my request) and the Akathist of Thanksgiving on Saturday. (Anyone who’s been down for homebuilding will know how important that one is.)
Every other week or so, we decided to add just one more night. Akathist to the Mother of God on Wednesday. Akathist to St. Innocent on Tuesday. Pick-a-new-Akathist night on Monday. Small Compline on Sunday. We even spent Holy Week together: praying through the book of Psalms, keeping Vigil, and taking on the journey to Pascha as our own small church.
It soon became clear how important this routine and support system was to us all. Finals were hitting hard this last semester: but often anyone who was cramming into the wee hours of the night would still join to listen to us pray while they worked. My spiritual father passed away on Holy Thursday: I was joined on Zoom to pray a service for him the following day. One of us had a scare when his younger brother was injured in a mountain biking accident, hospitalized, and had surgery: that day, we all prayed the Paraklesis to the Theotokos together.
We’ve been separated from Holy Communion, but we have NOT been separated from communion in Christ with each other. We’re being kept from one another geographically, but we are not being kept apart in prayer and spirit. We have humbly (and informally) done what we can to carry on the life of the church during this time, and if you asked any of us “Why?” the answer would probably be “Because I NEED this!”
In hardship, pain, and confusion, I struggle so deeply to see the redemption that is brought about in the moment. But He has given me the camaraderie of these people at this time, and it has strengthened me in my love for Him and others. I could never have imagined being where I am now--where we are now--for better or for worse. There is a time to mourn it, but then there is the time to be thankful! This gift of Project Mexico, this gift of spiritual family, has strengthened my faith in Him and others. Truly, I would not trade it for anything. Glory to Thee for the faithfulness of friends,
Glory to Thee, O God, from age to age!
-Faeli Heise
