MY SPIRITUAL ODYSSEY

In Canada in the late Forties, my Ukrainian parents baptized my unsuspecting infant self into the Greek Orthodox faith. Yet, my first dim memories of church are of visiting Catholic churches with them and other relatives. I recall eerie singing, many rituals, and being frightened by yelling from the pulpit.

When I was seven, I went to Sunday school in the same old country school where I attended grade one during the week. The non-denominational class was sponsored by the Canadian Sunday School Mission in The Prairies during the Fifties. I coloured my pictures and received my first Gideon's New Testament. I recited John 3:16. What it meant, I didn't know, and I don't recall being told its meaning. When I was nine years old, I began to read my little Bible, enjoying The Book of Proverbs most, because I liked their wisdom and rules for living. I read the Gospels, too. I didn't understand them, though I found them comforting, especially at times of great anxiety - like the evenings I performed in Christmas concerts.

When my family moved to a small acreage near Grandpa's farm, we attended the Greek Orthodox Church regularly, which was once a month when the circuit priest came to our 'parish'. Though it was grey and weather-beaten on the outside, the church's interior was filled with splendor. Brightly coloured icons lined the walls beneath a high domed ceiling painted blue with yellow stars. Stained-glass windows pictured vividly the apostles and the Holy Family. The icons, windows, and altar decorations glowed with painted gold trim. In front of the altar stood three stands with portraits of saints. The priest and his assistants wore resplendent white and yellow silk vestments, and a tall golden head covering crowned the priest's head.

One ritual of the Mass involved the congregation lining up before the priest and kissing his ring as well as the three portraits on the daises.  Before and after each kiss, we made the sign of the cross. Men and women were segregated to opposite sides of the church. Except for occasional kneeling, prostration, and sitting for the sermon, we stood for the three long hours of the Mass. The smell of incense became heady and sometimes we grew faint.

Much ceremony was directed toward honouring a book, the priest, and the many icons. Our priest conducted the Mass in either 'Church Slavonic' or Ukrainian languages, both of which I didn't understand. All of this was absolutely arcane to my immature mind.

I supplemented my church-going by continuing to read the New Testament, which was a new copy I received at school in grade six. The small volume contained an index of "What to Read When You Feel ... ." I often read Psalms for I felt very grateful most of the time. Every night I prayed the "Our Father" prayer in Ukrainian, having no idea what I said. "And please give me a white pony," I always added in English.

When I was fifteen years old, while reviewing comparative religion in my Social Studies course, I received a revelation: Everyone believes as wholeheartedly in their religion as we Christians believe in ours. I had not thought about that idea before. Everyone worships the same creator, I realized, and all faiths have good to offer humanity. Even communism, with its pooling of money, goods and services for the benefit of all, was valid. I concluded that we Christians need to be more tolerant than we are, instead of thinking that believers of other religions are wrong. I looked forward to being grown-up, free to pursue my faith as I believed it instead of blindly following my family tradition.

After I graduated and moved to Edmonton, I began my quest for a 'church'. I bought my own Holy Bible and read the Old Testament every day. Every Sunday, I visited a different church. In contrast to the formal, ritualistic ones of my childhood, the churches I visited were happy and intimate. My exposure to different faiths was not limited to churches, however, for at my job at the university I worked in the library with a Jewish lady and a Moslem man. Until I spoke with them, I had mistakenly believed the Jews were another Christian sect. About Moslems, I knew nothing.

Before long, my Moslem boss and I discussed religious philosophy, and as I listened to him describe Islam, I found myself drawn to it. I was drawn especially to its many rules, for that was exactly what I sought: rules for living and a community that sincerely obeyed their creator. The very word 'Islam' means submission to the will of God. As the overly-serious young adult I was at that time, I saw no evidence of such submission in the Western world, or even in the churches I visited. I only saw materialism, sinful fashions, and hedonistic entertainment.

Soon I began to attend the Mosque in Edmonton. It was a red brick structure with an oriental dome above the door. Inside, we removed our shoes and sat upon the carpet, the women separated from the men (by draperies), similar to the practice in the church of my youth. The Imam led the prayers and service in Arabic, but I was not perturbed as I was accustomed to religious services in a language I didn't understand. Praying was like that done in my past church too, I rationalized, because it included kneeling, and prostration so that the forehead touched the floor.

I bought a copy of Dawood's Translation of the Glorious Koran, which I read from cover to cover. To me, its words were beautiful. From additional reading, I learned that Islam was a historical religious progression from Judaism and Christianity and that their prophets were the same as those I read about in my Holy Bible. The three faiths are so interrelated, that The Glorious Koran itself states that Moslems can inter-marry with 'people of the book' (Jews or Christians).

I embraced (converted to ) Islam in a small ceremony with the Imam, a pious humble man, and his assistant, a taxi driver. I avowed: "There is only one God and Mohammed was his last prophet." The two leaders urged me to write and sign a testimonial explaining that Islam was not spread by the sword, but by persuasion and sharing the words of Allah, as recited by the Prophet Mohammed.

I proceeded to live my Moslem life - I was submissive to Allah, and I married a Moslem man, to whom I was also submissive. I already knew this wifely responsibility form reading Proverbs. As a new convert, I obeyed its dietary laws, in particular abstaining from eating pork, which was no easy task in a western country like Canada. The Koran also prohibited shellfish, alcohol, and drugs. I adopted the modest Moslem style of dress - being covered from elbows to ankles. I did not have to don the veil, though I would have been happy to do so.

Islam has five Pillars of Faith. The first is the declaration of faith in one God and Mohammed as His last prophet. The second is praying five times a day facing the direction of Mecca, the birthplace of Mohammed. Third, is the giving of alms to the poor, and the fourth is fasting during the month of Ramadan (the ninth month of the Islamic calendar). The fifth pillar of faith is a pilgrimage to Mecca at least once in a Believer's lifetime. Moslems believe that Jesus was not the son of God, but a human prophet.

I felt disappointed that we didn't attend the mosque or pray: I followed my husband's lead, sadly realizing that he was not as devout as I had thought he was. Also, praying involved a series of ablutions, and in the hectic pace of my domesticity, I had little time to wash my head, face and arms five times a day. I fasted during the month of Ramadan: I ate no food and drank no water between sunrise and sunset. Pilgrimage to Mecca was impossible to undertake due to costs of travel.

As a Moslem wife, I was allowed only the company of women and I could not appear in public unless accompanied by my spouse or by relations or female friends. I was not allowed to make any decisions, and at home or on social occasions, I was discouraged from expressing opinions of my own. I was punished with slaps for doing so and for disobeying my spouse. (Being completely submissive was easier to promise in my wedding vows than it was to do.) However, I was permitted to work outside the home to contribute to our household income.

Later, when my spouse and I argued about my wanting some independence, he  opposed the idea so strongly that he divorced me in the manner of Moslems according to The Glorious Koran, saying, "I divorce you" three times. In Islamic law, this is a male privilege only. Contrarily, we co-habited after this 'divorce' for approximately eight months, and then we agreed to a separation and subsequent divorce according to Canadian law. Our differences were definitely irreconcilable.

Though I wanted to remain a Moslem, it was difficult for me to do so in a Canadian city and without contact with other believers. I became a pork eater and a social drinker again. Soon Jehovah's Witnesses visited me, and I enjoyed studying the Bible with them. They gave me a copy of their Holy Scriptures, introducing me to the concept of Jesus, the Son of God, dying on the cross as a ransom for all humankind. This concept seemed interesting, but I struggled with it and the Moslem belief that Jesus was only human.

When I moved to Vancouver, I took with me my Koran and my Holy Scriptures. Again I visited with the Jehovah's Witnesses and I attended their Kingdom Hall. At the same time I befriended Marlene, who was involved in 'The Local Church' in 'The Lord's Recovery'. I went to Saturday evening 'Love Feasts' at The Local Church, finding them to be joyful occasions. After we feasted on pot-luck dishes, we enjoyed an atmosphere filled with love when we sang hymns to the tunes of upbeat popular songs like "Yellow Submarine". Church members shared testimonials. I would not share because I was still a Moslem. Yet, I attended Local Church Sunday morning services, learning much about the New Testament books. At the Local Church, there were no rituals, but members spent a lot of time reading the Word loudly in unison. As Marlene often said, "The services sometimes resembled football rallies."

Meanwhile, I still visited the Kingdom Hall of the Jehovah's Witnesses. In the spring of 1974 I decided to convert to their faith for I enjoyed their teachings and their emphasis on study and research. Unexpectedly, on the evening prior to my conversion, Marlene invited me to dinner with her friends, and they spoke to me of their 'happiness in The Lord'. Suddenly feeling an overwhelming desire to know that happiness too, I opened my heart and mind to Him and joined the Local Church!

I studied the writings of Watchman Nee and experienced a healing of a minor ailment. I re-read the New Testament several times. Yet, though I earnestly tried to discern God's will in my life, it never became real to me. When I participated in a study about a thousand demons entering the bodies of a herd of pigs and causing them to stampede off a cliff, I left the Local Church. That religion was too farfetched for me - and I never learned what the 'Lord's Recovery' was.

So, I became a sceptic. In the late Seventies I discovered 'La Danse Oriental' (belly dance), which felt spiritual to me. When I danced I was in a trance; I felt exhilarated; I was obsessed. For years I lived to dance, rehearsing constantly and performing as an enthusiastic amateur.

Later, during a three-month stay with family in Edmonton, I went to the Unitarian Church for the first time. Upon entering it and seeing the banners with symbols of major world faiths on the walls, I knew in my heart that this was where I belonged. Those symbols of Islam, Buddhism, Christianity, Judaism, and other religions affirmed to me that there are many paths to universal love.

Unitarians do not profess to have found the Truth; we still search for Truth. We avoid dogma, appreciating the wisdom of all scriptures and philosophies. During services, we sing hymns as well as listen to classical music. Unitarians are humanistic: we actively seek justice regarding environmental, racial, gender and human rights issues. We believe in voicing our opinions strongly and freely. One Unitarian minister once said, "There are as many opinions as there are Unitarians."

Back home in Vancouver, I became a member of the Unitarian Church at a small gathering in the Fireside Room where volunteers welcomed us newbies with a luncheon. The minister introduced himself and we talked about the ideas that drew me towards Unitarianism. Though he was friendly, he also was so knowledgeable and scholarly that I felt like I was talking to God! I became a better person by growing and learning in the church when I participated in activities such as meditation, singles groups, child care, and political workshops.

Later, during studies at community college, I met Bonnie, who practiced Science of Mind. We exchanged ideas, and I sometimes attended services with her. That philosophy is based upon the concept of our thoughts shaping our minds, and subsequently shaping what we are. Although these concepts seemed reasonable, and though I used Science of Mind meditations, I didn't find them helpful.

Then I read a number of profound books that further influenced my spirituality. The first was a book by Merlin Stone, "When God was a Woman". In it she wrote of the idea that the Gods of Judaism, Christianity and Islam were creations of patriarchal societies. This concept was a new one to me, and it made clear to me that I hadn't found Christianity and Islam fulfilling because I felt oppressed by their patriarchal attitudes. In contrast, the matriarchal Goddess religions were fair in the treatment of both genders, and professed a 'wholistic' inclusive approach to societal relationships.

However, the ideas that shaped my spirituality from early childhood didn't entirely leave me. So, I read scriptures of "The Dead Sea Scrolls", as scholars published their translations and interpretations. I also read "The Other Bible" (edited by William Barnstone), which contained gospels, "The Apocrypha", "Pseudepigrapha", and Gnostic writings not included in the canon of my Holy Bible.

Now, as I approach my senior years, I continue to be a Unitarian, and find that Nature gives me the most spiritual fulfillment of all, as I walk the paths among the evergreen trees along the river.

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Published in different versions in Print.