Widening My Christian Cultural Range: Getting Used to Not Being Irish in Heritage

Good evening, readers!   When we last left off, I was feeling quite adrift because I found out that, contrary to what I had heard growing up, I am not Irish in heritage.  My family tree traces back to England (a combination of Norman and Saxon blood!), Wales, Scotland, Germany and the Netherlands.  I had always thought that we were Irish, having grown up hearing stories of how we had to change our name from O'Hosey to Hosey when our family came to America.

Allow me to clarify for new readers: I am Joy-Noël Gabrielle Bronzich, née Hosey.  I go by my middle name, Gabrielle.  I married a man of Montenegrin heritage, David Thomas Bronzich.

My maiden name is Hosey.  It is a Norman name that has variations: Hosea, Hussey, Houssaye, and in Ireland there is an Irish version of it, Ó hEódhusa.  In my case, that would be Ní hEódhusa because "Ní" means "daughter of" instead of the "son of" connotation which is denoted by the "Ó."

Now, about this whole Irish thing! Even if my family lived in Ireland at one point, it does not change the fact that they would have come there either as Norman invaders (or settlers--most probably invaders, though!) during the twelfth or thirteenth centuries.  It also does not change the fact that one of the Scottish ancestors of my father settled in Dublin in 1689.  That was during one of the worst times in Irish history, a time of grave English oppression of Ireland, the time of the Penal Laws.

So, either way, I am descended, on the English and Scottish side of my family, from people who didn't belong in Ireland and should not have gone there to live.  On the other hand, I am also descended in a couple of lines from Welsh people, who were in their turn oppressed by the English many a time.  There's also the Scottish side, having dealt also with English oppression.

It's really strange to be from an ancestral mix of oppressors and oppressed like this.  It's also disturbing to have read so many stories of oppression and genocide of Irish people by the English, assuming that I was descended from those who were oppressed, only to find out that I am descended more from the opposite side.

Most people who have lately been keeping up with my spiritual journey on this blog know that I am an Eastern Orthodox Christian, and that as such, I am seeking to establish my own cultural heritage and framework for the practice of my faith, just as Greeks have their ways and Slavic people have their ways.  For many years, my alleged Irish heritage was something I clung to for spiritual enrichment as I practiced my faith in various churches: first the Methodist and other mainline Protestant churches in which I grew up, later in the Roman Catholic tradition which I adopted in the early 1990's, and finally in the Eastern Orthodox Church of which I have now been a baptised member for fourteen years, fifteen this coming December.

The Eastern Orthodox Church is a beautiful faith expression, and the right one for me.  I love the Eastern Orthodox tradition and prayers.  However, to fill in that Western gap in myself, I have successfully reclaimed prayers, traditions, the Mass, and paraliturgical devotions of the Orthodox Western Rite into my prayer life.  One can say that I live a balanced life, spiritually, between the Eastern ways of the Church and the Western ways.  I now want to integrate all of this into a cultural framework that fits my blood and heritage.

That's my quest, and it's not an easy one within Eastern Orthodoxy.  Part of this is because of prejudice against Western Rite ways on the part of certain Eastern clergy, hierarchs and those of Slavic and Greek ancestry.  The other part of it that is difficult is the fact that these Western ways must be in conformity with the teaching and ecclesiology of the Orthodox Church. One therefore has to use a sifter when looking at Western rites and prayers, in order to find and utilise what is correct in this respect, versus what is considered erroneous.

I haven't found it hard to find the ways that fit theologically, because I actually have an excellent working knowledge of the fathers of the Church and the seven Ecumenical Councils.  I also have the nose of a bloodhound for what is or isn't correct theologically according to the teaching of the Orthodox Church.

Nay, what I'm finding difficult is the cultural aspect, in terms of finding my own Christian cultural framework in which to practice my faith.  The Greeks have their Greek traditions in Orthodoxy! The Russians have their Russian Orthodox traditions!  I want my British/Celtic/Norman/Germanic Orthodox traditions!  The Orthodox Church is for people of all backgrounds, not just Slavic and Greek.

People who respond to this with, "Well, the Greek and Slavic customs used to be the customs of the whole Church all over the world during the early times!" are being ignorant and shortsighted regarding the diversity within the undivided Church, especially during the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries with the conversion of Britain, Gaul, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and many Germanic lands.  The doctrine and general structure of the liturgy were all one in the Church during those times, but the smaller liturgical traditions and flavours in local churches of Western Europe and Eastern Europe were much more varied.  This is proven by looking at various forms of the Liturgy, or Mass, during those times: the Ambrosian Liturgy, the Mozarabic Liturgy, the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, the Liturgy of St. Basil, the Liturgy of St. James, the Liturgy of St. Mark, the Sarum Liturgy. . .the list goes on.  This is also proven by writings of Western saints such as Venerable Bede and Benedict of Nursia. So, no, I don't buy into the "Everything was Eastern at one time" idea.  It's just flat wrong.

I am doing research to find the original Christian culture, from the point of conversion from paganism onward, for Scotland, Saxon England, Briton England before the Saxon invasion, Wales, Brittany, and Normandy.  That is going to be a long historical, archaeological journey.  Irish Christian spirituality from the Irish missionaries to those lands also figures in closely with all of this, because saints such as Patrick, Colunba and Aidan of Lindisfarne had such a powerful influence on the approach to the practice of Christian faith in those lands.

From a later standpoint, I also have something else in my heritage: plain, Southern American Christian culture.  There is an entire hymnody from that tradition as well, much of which has made its way into the Western liturgical tradition.

With the Norman heritage, there is Norse blood in there to consider.  From the German and Dutch standpoint, there are those traditions and hymns as well.  So, basically, we have the Germanic aspect of my Northern European blood to consider in this journey as well.

Again, why does this matter?  Because God made us not only as spiritual beings, but as flesh in His image.  Our bodies are connected to our souls, and hence our DNA and blood background is connected to our souls.  I believe that this connection between our DNA and blood and our souls manifests itself in certain spiritual tendencies in our journeys.

For a long time, I felt I had a spiritual connection to Ireland.  From a purely DNA standpoint, considering that the Hapla groups for England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Germany, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia are pretty much the same, I still have that spiritual connection to Ireland.  But God has stripped me of the emotional veneer that I put upon this connection to Ireland, which I mistook for genuine spiritual connection and experience.

Here is a very good example of how our emotions and romanticism born thereof can mislead us when it comes to true spiritual reality and experience!  And alas for me, that I could not see the difference before in this particular instance!

It was my husband, ever wise, who helped me to see today that I had created this emotional, sentimental veneer that was passing itself off as my "Celtic soul." When stripped of this veneer because of the discovery that my blood was not wholly Celtic, and when further stripped of the specifically "Irish" veneer that I had painted upon myself through the adaptation of Irish Gaelic music and cultural customs, I felt like a tree with no leaves.

"Mother of God!" I cried out before the icon of the Theotokos Hodegetria today, after Lauds.  "Pray to God for me, who am adrift and stripped of what I held dear all these years!  Tell Him I want Him to give me back what is lost.  I need Him to fix this!" *(See note on this at the bottom of the article).

I then turned to the Crucifix, addressed our heavenly Father and said, "God! Give me back my leaves."

Silence.  Not a thought.  Not an idea.  No feeling.  Not a stir within. That's because the answer to my cry was in the icon itself.  To what does the hand of the Theotokos, the Holy Virgin Mary, point in the icon?  To the Baby Jesus!  To Christ!

It reminds me of what my mother wrote to me all those years ago when I was college, and I asked her why an autumnal equinox observance I had made was not of lasting fulfillment spiritually.  Her answer was, "All rituals must have Christ in their center to be of lasting effect spiritually."

So, I can continue to go on this quest of finding a cultural framework for my faith.  However, what God is calling me to do is to make certain that He is at the center of my quest, not "Irishness" or "Celtic ways."

It's all basically Matthew 6:33: "Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness.  And all these things shall be added unto you."

That also means being open to real spiritual experience in the soul, not sentimental, emotional veneers posing as such.  My husband also pointed out that I still have my connection to Celtic music, especially by blood because of the whole Hapla group thing. So, my connection to those Celtic hymns is not lost.  I just covered it up with the sentimental trappings. Maybe the real thing will be allowed to come out now.

I just realised that the image of being like a tree without leaves is an interesting one, as we enter into the fullness of autumn and the harvest season.

Today, I came across a raven in the road, a female raven eating carrion. In the Bible, the raven was the first bird to find land after the great flood.  In various Northern European mythological traditions, the raven symbolises letting go of old things to get ready for new things, old things dying to make way for new life, and general change.  In the Norse tradition, the raven was one of two companions of Odin, two ravens who were called Thought and Memory.  This means that in Scandinavian mythology, the raven symbolises a call to reflection on the past and the present.

Well, if I am drifting spiritually because of the removal of fake things I had built around myself, may the Lord grant that, like the raven after the flood, I find the land He has for me.  If I am being called to let go of old things, well, letting go of false ideas of ancestry and spiritual connection are certainly part and parcel of that.  If I am being called to reflect and remember, then that also fits into this time of learning who my ancestors were and actually thinking upon that and how it affects who I am.  It also fits with some memories of my parents that I needed to hear while I was visiting my family in Alabama this past week.

And so, I offer this prayer at this point in my journey, a prayer of the heart.

Lord God, heavenly Father: Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.  Thou art the Weaver, and I am the thread upon the loom.  Make me; form me; weave me as Thou wilt.

Lord God, Son of the Father, Word at the beginning of all creation: Thou art the Painter; I am Thine icon.  Draw me, paint me, give Thy colours unto me as Thou wilt.

Lord God, Holy Spirit, Comforter, Giver of Truth: All I have, Thou hast given me.  If I must fly, then give me wings.  If I must die, then help me live.  If I must change, then hover over the waters wherein I sail.

And may the end result be the words, "Let there be light!".  And may it be so.  And mayest Thou then say, "This is good."

In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord,
Amen.

*Eastern Orthodox Christians believe that Christ gave us His Mother (the Blessed Virgin Mary) and the saints to help us and pray for us, as Resurrected members of the Body of Christ.  So, we ask the Virgin Mary, the holy prophets and the saints who have gone before us to pray for us.  Christ is the Head of the Church, of which these Resurrected people are a part.  Asking the saints for intercession is not putting them above Christ, because He says in the Gospel, "Wherever two or three are gathered in My Name, there am I in the midst of them."  They cannot be above Him when He is in their midst!  He also makes references to the saints and angels being gathered in heaven, and rejoicing over one repentant sinner.  There are many Scriptural references regarding intercessory prayer of those who have gone before, in both the Old and New Testaments.  The other thing is that "Mother of God" does not mean that the Virgin Mary is mother of the Father.  It means that she is the Mother of Christ, Who is God because He is the Second Person of the Trinity.  See John: 1: 1.  Anyway, this is a bit of clarification for readers belonging to other churches who don't have intercessory prayer by saints and angels as part of their tradition.

Genealogical Discoveries from Actual Ancestral Records Shake My World!

Celtic cross from the isle of Iona, Scotland

Wow! I've been thrown a real curve ball in my search for my spiritual ancestral heritage, my Western cultural heritage with which I seek to frame my Orthodox Christian practice as Greeks, Russians, and Serbs can frame theirs. While I was in Alabama visiting my immediate family, I saw our family tree: actual records of our ancestors. Much to my surprise and, to a large extent, dismay, I have found that I am NOT Irish! I am only Irish insofar as the Hosey family name is the name of a Norman line, also called Hussey or de Houssaye, which settled in Ireland during the 1200's. I knew that I was Norman-Irish, if anything. But what I didn't know is that there appears to be no pure Irish blood in me whatsoever! So far, I haven't traced but one ancestor back to Ireland and he was Scottish; his father moved to Dublin in the late 1600's. Having actually done genealogical research and traced several ancestral lines back, this is what I have discovered: some Welsh blood, a lot of English blood with Anglo-Saxon roots and Norman roots, a bit of Scottish, a bit of Dutch, and a bit of German. Here's some information on my ancestral heritage according to residence of documented ancestors.

Welsh St. David's Cross, Pembrokeshire

THE NAME HOSEY: Here is a link all about the Hosey surname, both in Ireland and in England. The Hosey surname, also spelled Hussey, de Houssaye and Hosea, is a Norman name. Hoseys settled in County Meath, Ireland, during the 1100's and 1200's. Others in the family, however, stayed in Kent, England. They came to Kent from Normandy, of course, after 1066 A.D., the Norman conquest of England.

https://www.houseofnames.com/hosey-family-crest/Irish -- Irish settlement of Hoseys

https://www.houseofnames.com/Hosey-family-crest -- English settlement of Hoseys

The Irish version of our surname, Ó hEódhusa, is one that I've clung to all these years. But I can't find proof that I belong to the line that settled in Ireland because I can't trace my Hosey ancestors prior to 1675 in Norfolk, Virginia, colonial British America.

WELSH & A TINY BIT OF SCOTTISH ON MY FATHER'S SIDE

My father's line of Hosey, thus far, can only be traced back as far as a John Davidson Hosea who died in Norfolk, VA in 1675. There's a Welsh side of the Hosey family from my paternal grandmother's line, the Logans. Logan is originally a Norman name, de Logan, but my grandmother's line actually is traced back to Pennard, Wales in 1557 through an ancestor named Silas George. There's a matrilineal line in the George ancestry that has the name Powell and goes back to Lydbury North, Shropshire, England, in the year 1515. On the Logan side, there is also a John Logan (1689-1777), who was born in Dublin, Leinster, Ireland and died in Washington, Litchfield, Connecticut. His father, John Logan, Sr., was born in Scotland in 1647.

Dutch Delft tile of the Crucifixion from 18th-century Rotterdam

DUTCH AND BELGIAN ON MY FATHER'S SIDE:

The Dutch line of the Hosey family begins with Alida Lydia Pruyn from Albany, NY (1707-1788). She married Andrew Lendrick Logan (1705-1788) from Albany, NY. He is the great-great-great-great grandfather of my dad James Hosey on his grandmother's side, the Logans.

Alida Pruyn's family descends from Johannes Pruyn of Albany, 1667-1749. He was the son of Frans Janse Pruyn, born in Holland, Reusel-de-Mierden, Noordbrabant, Netherlands in 1638 and died in Albany, NY, British Colonial America, in 1712.

His father, Johannes Pruyn (1617-1712) was born in Gelderland, Netherlands and died in Albany, NY, Colonial America. HIS father was Johannes Pruyn from Antwerp, Belgium, born there in 1585, date and location of death unknown.

German Hezilo cross, before 1079 A.D.

GERMAN ON MY MOTHER'S SIDE FROM THE HEADLEY FAMILY: Mom's maiden name was Scott. Her mother's maiden name was Headley, Simmie Headley. Simmie's mother was Ada Ware Headley.

Ada Roselyn Ware married Albert Clayton Headley (1873-1940). She was my great-grandmother on my mom's side. The German side of Ada Ware's family can be traced from Ada's mother, Catherine Ophelia Click (1850-1940) all the way back to Peter Vankleek, who was born in Germany in 1678 and died in 1794, location of death unlisted. His son was Baltas Click (also listed Kleek). from Alsace-Lorraine, and Baltas died on the ship to Philadelphia on September 26, 1732.

More German ancestry comes through the Culp line from the Headley family, starting with James Thomas Headley (1846-1921), who married Elizabeth Tirsie Culp (1842-1894). James Thomas Headley's descendants were Albert Clayton Headley (1873-1940), married to Ada Roselyn Ware (born 1876, death date not listed). (Again, Albert and Ada were Simmie Headley Scott's parents).

So, through Simmie, there's a long German line going all the way back to Bayern, Germany in the 1500's. That Bavarian ancestor's name is Martin Heinrich Kolb (1560-1620). His grandfather was Hans Dieter Kolb (1522-1601), from Ludwigshafen, Rheinland-Pfatz. Germany.

Hans Dieter's grandfather was Heinz der Jung Kolb, 1460-1538, from Unterwaiz, Oberfranken, Bayern Lande, Deutschland. His grandfather was Hans Kolb, from the same place, living from 1382-1440. Hans Kolb's father was Fritz Kolb, from the same place, 1350-1404.

One of the Headley ancestors was a bishop of some sort, but it's not clear whether Protestant or Catholic. My guess would be Protestant. His name is listed on the familysearch.org website as "Reverand, Bishop Peter Schumacher Kolb." (Yes, that's how 'reverend' is spelled; it must be 18th-century English spelling). He was born in 1671, in Wolfsheim, Mainz-Bingen, Rheinland-Pfalz, Germany. He died in 1727 in Pennsylvania, on September 5. I wonder if he was Amish?

So, on the patrilineal side, the Headley German line goes back from Simmie's grandmother, Elizabeth Tirsie Culp (1842-1894) to Fritz Kolb in 14th-century Germany!

SCOTTISH ON MY MOTHER'S SIDE:

There's a line on the Scott side, my maternal grandfather's side, that can be traced back to 17th-century Scotland (i.e., the 1600's).

Anglo-Saxon reliquary cross, 11th century

THE POPWELLS ON MY FATHER'S SIDE: ANGLO-SAXONS!

First of all, Popwell is an Anglo-Saxon name, derived from "popel" which means "pebble" in Anglo-Saxon, and "weilas," which is Saxon for "well." Together, those two Saxon words are "popel-weilas," which means "Pebble-well."

So far, I've traced the Popwells back to England. According to Irish surname lists, however, both Popwells and Hoseys are listed as families that settled in Ireland at some point.

DNA: The DNA Hapla groups of all these European, Welsh, English and Scottish ancestors is the same, according to current scientific research, as that of the Irish. The exception is that there are some variances in some Irish DNA caused by the presence of Basque heritage.

CONCLUSION: I can only consider myself as belonging to Celtic heritage insofar as the Welsh and Scottish roots go, from what I've found thus far in actual genealogical records, and insofar as Irish monks travelled to many of the areas in question--Wales, Germany, England--to spread the word of God. But I can not really call myself Irish, in the pure sense of the word. And with the Norman side of Hosey and Logan, which cannot be substantiated completely unless I can trace those lines back to before the 16th century, I could have a teeny bit of Norse heritage. My eldest sister Carol Hosey Spencer had a teeny bit of Swedish in her DNA, but mostly English. My eldest brother Mike Hosey had almost all English DNA.

Anyway, what a blow! I've grown up keeping Irish traditions, singing songs in Irish, and pursuing a Celtic flavour of my Orthodox Christianity according to that supposed heritage. I feel pretty adrift now, and it's not a good feeling to have, after I've clung to things Irish all these years. But I will continue my quest, and I won't give things Celtic. It's just that I can't claim Irish Celtic roots by blood, though by DNA it apparently makes no difference because of the matching Hapla groups. Also, my Western heritage is open to all sorts of things now, with that Germanic/Anglo-Saxon side and that Dutch/Flemish strain. I guess I just have to describe myself now as Northern European.

It is interesting that in the past year, I've developed an interest in the Anglo-Saxon Sanctorale and saints, as well as an interest in learning Anglo-Saxon and Dutch. I wondered why I, who was supposed to be Irish, was interested in such things.

St. Patrick wasn't Irish. A lot of people say he was Welsh. Anyway, who am I? Not who I thought I was, at least not ancestrally.

Why does all this matter? Why not just cling to Christ and forget all this stuff about heritage? Well, in the end, Christ is all that matters. However, Christ also made us who we are in terms of blood and ancestry, and who we are as people is sacred because God made us that way. So, knowing who we are as we walk with Christ is important. He doesn't ask us to give up who we are to follow Him. He asks us to surrender who we are to be transformed and transfigured by His grace, but He doesn't ask us to completely obliterate all sense of self and our uniqueness as individuals.

Grimbald Gospel evangelist portrait, Anglo-Saxon

French or Flemish pendant from circa 1400

German medieval processional cross

Dutch altar crucifix, 19th century

Talking to My Husband About Recent Spiritual Developments On My Path

This morning, I spent some time talking to my husband about spiritual matters. He and I spiritually advise each other. We are what is referred to in the Irish patristic tradition as "soul-friends" or "anamgcarad," the plural of "anamcara" or "soul friend." "Anam" is the Irish word for "soul." "Cara" is the word for "friend." Soul friends mutually advise each other and listen to each other, as they share their Christian walk day to day and grow. There is a spiritual connection between their souls because they contribute to each other's life in the Faith, hence the term "soul friend." It's kind of like having a spiritual father, but unlike that tradition, it does not involve concepts of monastic obedience; the decision to take advice is the choice of each person. This is especially true when the anamcairdeas (soul friendship) is between two lay people, or in this case, between an Orthodox Subdeacon and his wife. David is a wise anamcara. Today, I told him I felt adrift because I no longer had the Benedictine Oblate label to cling to, and I was clinging to that label because I thought it would make me safer around people. The thing is that when one is a nonconformist like me, an artsy kind of a person who doesn't fit into a lot of other people's cogs, a square peg, we often don't feel safe due to past negative reactions of people to who we are. So, words like "Goth" and "Benedictine" are labels that allow people to categorize folks like me. Then, being able to put me into a category makes them feel more secure and hence makes me safer from their reactions to the fact that I'm a bit off the beaten path. That's the theory, anyway. But the truth is, my husband said, that a persona does not stave off the effects of rejection if people choose not to accept someone. A persona merely delays the inevitable, because people are either going to accept you or not. So, he posed the question,"Why the need for narrow-minded people to accept you anyway? Why do you need them?". He said that instead of feeling adrift, I can rejoice in my freedom to just be me, without some label to explain myself to others. He also said that this freedom of being ourselves and navigating our own prayer life is part and parcel of Orthodoxy. A lot of times, as a cradle Orthodox Christian, he has observed that converts come into the faith with a need to impose the rigours of their previous churches onto themselves and others; they think that being Orthodox means you have to express control over others by saying, "THIS and THIS ALONE is the way to be Orthodox." But in fact, to embrace the mindset of Orthodoxy, one needs to embrace the richness and variety that is in the faith. One doesn't need to give up the prayers of the West that work in conformity with the faith, like the Rule of St. Benedict or pre-Schism Western prayers. One can do like I do, and integrate these things with the Eastern Orthodox Horologion and traditions. One does not need a label or persona to do that; it's about what doing what works. "Rejoice in your freedom, and be yourself," David says. Wise man. So, I will still pray the Rule of St. Benedict in addition to the Horologion, like I've been doing, because that benefits me. I will still use the label of Goth, because to an extent it's true of me, though I'm not into the darker things associated with that movement. But there's no need to use labels for self-defense, according to David. I don't know if I entirely agree, because my experience has been that if you don't give people some label to categorize you, they'll put their own label on you like "witch" and come after you. Usually, this is not done physically in this day and age, but rather is done emotionally, socially and professionally. I know, because I have experienced that, even to the extent that I have lost a job or two in the past because of it. Professionalese for "She's a witch! Burn her!" is "You don't fit into our vision of this school/church/company" or "You have such unique gifts; you really belong somewhere else."  So, I still am not sure that being without labels is safe. But he thinks it's better to just be oneself without them. I'll have to ponder on that.

Reflection on Some Creepy Stalker-like Behaviour I Encountered Today on Facebook, and How It Has Affected a Spiritual Decision for Me

I am left saddened by an incident that happened with the Benedictine Oblates group on Facebook this afternoon, and as a result I left the group. I was deeply shaken by a guy from that group who behaved like a stalker on my personal Facebook page. I will summarize what happened by posting here what I posted on Facebook about the incident this afternoon. I have put this post in italics, so that anyone who has already read it may skip it and proceed to the next paragraph.

"Wow! I just got dropped and blocked by a guy who was acting like a total creep. He was someone that I befriended from the Benedictine Oblates page. There were several things he did that made me uncomfortable: (1) Just after befriending me two days ago, he instantly got on Private Messenger with me, sending me constant messages with personal information about himself and asking me rather personal things about myself, and sometimes he sent me messages after midnight. (2) He spoke against my husband because I'm trying to honour my husband's spiritual advice to me in my Christian walk (especially since my husband is my anamcara), and because I follow Biblical principles in marriage. He referred to my husband as controlling. (3) He just now asked for me to send him a photograph of the tops of my hands and the tops of my feet, because he supposedly has a scientific interest in my hands and feet as a practitioner of reflexology. What the devil?! I pointed out to him that his request was a highly irregular one for him, as a single man, to make of a married woman. When my husband objected, he accused my husband of controlling my life. I got onto this creep for not having more respect for my marriage. The end result? He said, via PM, "Have fun being a slave to a controlling dictator." What a jerk! I'm glad that he did drop and block me, because I don't want someone like that on my page. Whether he agrees with my model of marriage or not and my husband being my anamcara, he was being way too personal for a Facebook new acquaintance. A man should not ask a married lady to send him pictures of her feet, especially if he just met her online. As for my husband's instincts about the guy, I completely trust them because my husband is the son of a cop and he's always an impeccable judge of character. Good God, but I do attract some loonies sometimes."

I know that a whole group, such as a large Benedictine Oblate group on Facebook, cannot be considered responsible for what happened with one nutcase. But what happened today brought back a memory that I had buried and thought that I had quite gotten over: the memory of being physically seized by a Benedictine monk at a Catholic Benedictine monastery on retreat, when I was a young woman during the early 1990's, during which the monk tried to force me to kiss him. I will speak of this now, on this blog, because I want other women who have experienced this type of thing to know that they are not alone. Like many young women who go through that sort of thing, I didn't report the monk at the time to the abbot or the police because I blamed myself for his actions. Besides, he had not actually tried to rape me, just to kiss me. I thought it was my fault for having talked to him too late at night on the terrace, which I did because I thought he was a lonely, sad person in need of my listening ear, hence his accosting me on my way to the dormitory. I further reflected, after the incident, that perhaps my trendy summer dress was too immodest for him, and that he had been tempted beyond his strength. So I left the incident unreported, with the result that he continued to follow me about the monastery and pass by my bedroom door every night as I stayed there for the retreat. There was another monk at that same monastery who pursued me in an inappropriate manner as well, though he did so through written communication instead of physically pursuing me. I once again blamed myself, because I had reached out to him when one of his monastic brothers said he was depressed. I had buried the memory of these past events, more or less, and tried not to think about them, especially since the monk who tried to kiss me is now long dead and the other one ran off from the monastery and was never heard from again. But today's incident with the creepy guy in the Oblates group made those past incidents all come back to me. Because I found myself shaken and brought back to those memories, I have decided that this is one reason out of two that I am NOT called to be a Benedictine Oblate in the Orthodox Western Rite. I will continue to pray the Rule of St. Benedict, but I will not seek Oblatehood because I cannot be certain that I will not run into more nutcases if I associate myself with a monastic congregation. I know that many Benedictine monasteries are filled with wonderful holy people who have a true vocation and can be an inspiration to Oblates. But, in my experience not only with that Benedictine house but with a couple of Greek monastic communities, monasteries also can have some people who have sought solace in the monastic vocation because they are not sound of mind. Three creepy guys--those two monks from the 1990's and today's creep from the Oblates group--are enough to turn a woman off from wanting to be associated with a monastic congregation in a lay "third order" capacity such as Oblatehood. There are two things that I don't need in my life: (1) I don't need to subject myself to the possibility of encountering crazy guys who might behave inappropriately towards me and insult my honour. (2) I don't need anyone exerting control over my spiritual life and prayer life in the name of spiritual direction. This incident and some wise words from my original Irish spiritual father this past week, words about ploughing my own furrow instead of letting other people dictate who they think I should be, have helped me come to my decision tonight. My husband was right to be concerned about my spiritual freedom and my safety. I will continue to pray the Rule of St. Benedict, but I will not seek any more to be an Oblate. I think that my husband as a soul-friend and Fr. Photius as father-confessor are sufficient for me. What makes me sad, however, is that I have lost yet again an opportunity to have some sort of spiritual community of people sharing my path and journey. I'm beginning to think that my calling is to be the woman living on the outskirts of the village, with the raven and the owl as my companions, who gets periodically consulted by people with particular questions. Every attempt I have ever made at having a spiritual community about me has failed, but maybe that's because God doesn't want that for me. Maybe I'm called to be solitary, like the aforementioned raven and owl. So, I'll just serve the Church through music, minister in that capacity as I'm called, love people when I see them, and continue friendships that I have forged. But otherwise, I will stay out in the woods where I belong.