Theological Refugee

It has been a strange year. For now, I'll leave it at that.

I've written in the past on doing theology from a place of exile. I walked away from my religious homeland. For the past year, perhaps two, I've been doing theology as a sort of refugee in the Orthodox Church. Moving in a theological world where I am a foreigner, day by day improving my command of the language and learning to pass in the culture.

I am once again faced with the task of discernment. Do I become a citizen of this world? This world that has welcomed me in such surprising ways? This rich, beautiful theological tradition that gives me air to breath and food to eat? This highly conservative, androcentric church?

The Orthodox Church is not a perfect fit for me. But there isn't a church or religion that would be a "perfect" fit for me.

I was recently assigned Augustine's Confessions for a class, the three chapters leading up to his conversion in the garden. This is at least the third time I have read this particular section of the Confessions, but this time, I found myself copying sections out into my journal and identifying so strongly with Augustine. Almost, I'm almost resolved, but not quite.