Three things I’ve learned in the last six months

I attended my first Orthodox Vesper service six months ago today

Six months ago today, I walked into an Orthodox Church for the first time (outside of funerals).

I was so nervous I felt sick to my stomach. I sat in the car, trying to gather the courage to go in. What was I walking into? Was I going to make a fool of myself? Was this a leap too far from a non-denominational megachurch to something so formal and liturgical?

What was I thinking?

I remember praying something like, “God, just help me see what I’m supposed to,” as I walked toward the doors.

It had all been a rather sudden decision. Near the end of last year, I felt a strong nudge to explore my family’s Orthodox heritage after a lifetime of being a Protestant. Then, after stumbling on a news story about the faith in early January, I felt I needed to take that next step.

I emailed Father Stephen before I could second-guess myself, and the rest is history.

I was reminded of that first visit just two weeks ago. Someone new walked into the parish, and I recognized the look: confusion, anxiety, being overwhelmed—maybe even a little fear.

In that moment, I felt deep empathy. I remembered exactly how it felt to be the new one, unsure of what was going on. And in a bit of God’s humor, it was me—a former Evangelical introvert who isn’t even Orthodox—who was one of several who leaned in for support.

It struck me then how far I had come in just six months. When I first walked through those doors, I didn’t know where the journey would lead—or if it would ever even “make sense” to me.

I still feel like I know nothing in the grand scheme. But I know this: I feel peace the moment I step into that space. I’ve found comfort. It certainly doesn’t feel like only six months. It feels like it’s always been, I just finally opened my eyes to see it.

So, in honor of six months, here are three things I’ve learned about Orthodoxy:

1. Orthodoxy is meant to be experienced
The best advice I received when I started coming was, “Just experience it.” It didn’t make sense in the moment, and I kindly nodded and smiled in agreement while thinking, “But I need to read to help it make sense to me.”

I was reading everything I could get my hands on, but I had to accept that Orthodoxy doesn’t live in the mind. It lives in the heart and soul. You can read about it and gain a framework, but it’s through experiencing the Divine Liturgy, Pascha, or venerating an icon that the faith truly comes alive and becomes tangible.

Reading doesn't do it justice. But encountering God in the reverence of the liturgy—that’s where it begins to make sense.

I’ll give that same advice to new attendees, and I expect I’ll get the same nod and smile in return. But it’s true, and if you’re interested in Orthodoxy, just experience it. It’s the best way to understand it.

2. The sacred matters
As a Protestant, I was taught to respect the church building, but that was about as far as it went. Many modern churches don’t even hold onto that. My last church had an auditorium, stage lighting, and a rock band. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that, and it works for their mission.

However, these last six months, I’ve learned how deeply I connect with the sacred.

When I walk into an Orthodox church, I feel I’ve entered holy ground—a space that is worthy of God. The elaborately painted walls, the scent of incense, the gold that gleams in candlelight—it all continually reinforces the awareness that this is sacred.

The church is where God dwells, where saints are present, and where the line between heaven and earth blurs. Its holiness isn’t just symbolic—it’s real. It’s consecrated. Set apart. Treated as such.

It looks, feels and smells like the place where I encounter God on a different level.

3. It’s not the West
To begin understanding Orthodoxy, I had to stop filtering it through Western thinking. Roman Catholicism and the Protestant Reformation both emerged out of the Latin West; Orthodoxy followed a different path after the Great Schism of 1054. While they share early roots, their development, emphasis, and even worldview diverge significantly.

As a Protestant, I once thought I had nothing in common with Roman Catholics. Now, I see they’re two sides of the same Western coin. Orthodoxy stands apart—patient, ancient, often paradoxical.

I had to confront my assumptions. I had to let go of trying to “translate” it into categories I already understood. I had to begin seeing with fresh eyes.

I had to let myself start over, building from the fundamental universal Christian belief that Christ is God.

On the outside, Orthodoxy may look foreign, but that’s because, compared to Western tradition, it is. It’s different, and I’m thankful for that, because it’s challenged me to rethink my beliefs. I’m seeing things from a new perspective, being called deeper into a relationship with Christ that feels right.

It’s hard to believe six months have gone by. It’s been an incredible journey, and one that seems to be just beginning.

These reflections are part of my personal journey—how I’m seeing and interpreting things in the moment. Like any journey, my understanding may be limited or incomplete and will likely deepen over time. I share these thoughts not as conclusions, but as honest glimpses along the way.