Own it

I have begun my senior year at The University of Texas at Austin. Life is crazy right now-the future holds so many unknowns and I am left at a fork in the road. It is in times like these when I think about what being an Orthodox Christian and having faith really means in college.

Orthodox churches are heavily set in culture. It is hard to grow up and not be known by your father's name. Your identity is through association and the judgement of your character is equivalent to that given to your parents. You are orthodox because your parents go to church. You stay true to the faith because your family is good and does not have drama-filled gossip hanging in the air. People who you have never met assume you because of what church you go to.

College is completely different. At a university with over 51,000 students, you mean nothing. You are nothing. People do not know your father, your mother, your ethnicity, your creed. You come to college with a clean slate, a blank page. You are completely defined by what you say, what you wear, what you do, and who you hang out with. The crutch of family and community can no longer hold up your character and you are demanded to define yourself. So what do you do? No one is waking you up in the morning to go to church. No one is holding your hand to go to bible study. No one is buying you lent-friendly groceries. Your walk with God is now on you.

College is about owning your faith. It is about taking something that your parents believed in and making it something you can carry on to your children. It is about how you spend your time, how you talk with your friends, how you present yourself. Your colleagues will question you in every aspect of your life, and the evidence for their case is what you have shown them. It is easy to say we are Orthodox in the comforts of our home, but in a world where orthodoxy is unknown and persecuted, we must own our inheritance and understand what exactly it is we stand for. It is hard to convince someone that you belong to a pure and Christian church when you were spotted downtown on a Friday night. It is hard to believe your ears have heard the words of God when your lips speak deceitfully. It is hard to preach love and mercy when your heart remembers every debt owed to you.

As I have gone through college, I have seen my identity grow. I went from blind faith, to doubt, to complete acceptance. I came in, thinking that college was going to be easy; there was no way I was going to fall with all the Sunday School lessons stuffed into my head. And then I fell. I bruised and cried. I did not have the shelter of home to protect me from the questions and temptations. But then I found refuge. I rediscovered my shield and my strength. I learned that the cross that was anointed on me at the time of my baptism had never faded; it was simply covered by the dirt and sin of this world. I was given an identity as a baby and it was my duty to uphold the reverence and fear for the cross as an adult. Now, I am rising. I take every stumble with joy and take every success against the enemy as the grace of God. I still fall but I know that there is a multitude of angels fighting alongside me. I am humbled by a God who is greater than my success and my failure.

As I enter the chapter of 'adulting', I remind myself that I am still growing. I will continue to fall for I am a sinner. However, my journey to God in college has taught me one thing: God is the one who defines me. I am no longer defined by my parents' life or the lives of other Christians. I am defined by the life that I choose to give to God. That no matter where I turn, I will always end up back at His feet. And when I fall, I remember the words of the Psalmist as he confessed his faith: "But You, O Lord, are a shield for me, My glory and the One who lifts up my head." (Psalm 3:3)