Treasury of the Saints

How It Began

My journey into Eastern Orthodoxy began unexpectedly six years ago while pursuing my BA degree in biblical studies at Grand Canyon University. An assignment — meant to simply explore a different Christian tradition — would ultimately change the trajectory of my spiritual life and that of my family forever. Out of curiosity, I chose Eastern Orthodoxy, a faith I knew almost nothing about. What began as an academic exercise soon became a profound exploration of a tradition that felt both ancient and new, distant and yet deeply resonant with my longings to know Christ.

The more I studied, the more I realized that Eastern Orthodoxy is not just another Christian denomination. It is the most ancient Christian faith, a Church that predates divisions and schisms, preserving a continuity with the early apostles. This faith is evangelical, but not Protestant. It is Orthodox, but not Jewish. It is Catholic, but not Roman. It is not non-denominational; it is pre-denominational, existing before the divisions that would later fragment the Christian world. The deeper I went, the more I was shaken by the realization that this Church had been believed, taught, preserved, defended, and died for since the time of the apostles themselves.

The Church Fathers Open My Eyes

One of the most transformative parts of my journey was my study of the early Church Fathers. St. Ignatius of Antioch, one of the earliest Christian martyrs, emphasized the necessity of a bishop for the unity of the Church. His writings revealed a Church structure designed not for power but to preserve truth and ensure accountability, reflecting the apostolic tradition passed down through the centuries.

The Cappadocian Fathers (Basil the Great, Gregory of Nazianzus, and Gregory of Nyssa) showed me how the Church's structure mirrors the heavenly order. St. Basil explained that "the essence of the Church is communion with the Holy Spirit, who brings unity to all believers." The Church wasn't just an institution; it reflected divine order — a place where the Holy Spirit actively works to transform hearts.

The Eucharist: Medicine of Immortality

The Fathers illuminated the Eucharist for me. St. Ignatius described it as the "medicine of immortality," revealing that it was not merely a symbol but the real Body and Blood of Christ. The Eucharist, according to the Church Fathers, was the center of Christian life. St. John Chrysostom's words echoed in my heart:

These words deepened my understanding that the Eucharist is the place where heaven and earth meet, where time and eternity converge.

Salvation: Past, Present & Future

Another key revelation was the Orthodox teaching on salvation. I came to understand that salvation is not a one-time event but a journey encompassing past, present, and future. As St. Irenaeus of Lyons wrote: "The Word of God, Jesus Christ, on account of His immense love, became what we are, that He might make us what He is" (Against Heresies 5. Preface). St. Athanasius expressed it: "God became man so that man might become god" — not in essence but by Grace — a process known as theosis, union with God. This is the restored Edenic communion with our Creator, yet an even greater glory.

The Greek word σῴζω (sōzō), meaning "to save," is used in all three tenses throughout the New Testament: we have been saved by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8), we are being saved (1 Corinthians 15:2), and we will be saved (Romans 13:11). What struck me was that New Testament references to future salvation far outnumber those referring solely to a past event — yet many Protestants focus almost exclusively on that single past moment. The Orthodox Church has always embraced the full picture: past justification, present sanctification, and future glorification. This has been the consistent teaching of the Church for two thousand years.

The Beauty of Orthodox Worship

The incense symbolizes the prayers of the saints rising to heaven (Exodus 30:7–8; Revelation 8:3–4). The very air of the liturgy becomes a reminder that we are in the presence of God and His holy ones. The Divine Liturgy itself is often described as "heaven on earth." The icons are not merely religious art — they are windows into heaven, offering a glimpse of the divine reality beyond what we can see. When the faithful venerate icons, they honor Christ and the saints depicted in them. This is not worship (latria — λατρεία, for God alone) but honor and respect (dulia — δουλεία). The candles represent Christ as the light of the world. And in every liturgy, more Scripture is read than in any sermon I have ever encountered — from the Old Testament, the epistles, and through the Gospels, the Word of God permeates the service from beginning to end.

Our First Liturgy Together — August 18, 2024

Up until this point, this was just my own personal study and experience with the Eastern Orthodox Church from a distance. But on August 18, 2024, our family finally attended our first Divine Liturgy together at St. Andrew Orthodox Church.

From the moment we entered the parish, I knew this was the culmination of all my years of study. We were immediately enveloped by a sense of sacredness that touched every part of our being. The smell of the incense — earthy and sweet — filled the air. The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the room, casting warm reflections on the gilded icons. As we walked further in, the beauty of the icons drew our eyes in every direction — vivid images of Christ, the Theotokos, and the saints seemed to gaze back at us, their faces full of peace and solemnity.

About a quarter of the way into the Divine Liturgy, I glanced at my wife for a moment and just saw tears fall from her eyes. There was no need to ask what was going on in her heart — I already knew. After the service, both Wendy and Grayson told me they felt as if they had finally come home. And I couldn't agree more.

That journey also included both of my sons, Grayson and Donoven. Grayson first came to an Orthodox liturgy with me six years ago when he was only four years old. He referred to the Church as the "Holy Father Church." Even before I had fully embraced these practices, Grayson was making the sign of the cross, doing prostrations, and venerating the icons. Witnessing his instinctive love for these holy practices reminds me of Christ's words: "Truly I tell you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 18:3).

Why I Left Protestantism

Several longstanding struggles as a Protestant naturally led me toward Eastern Orthodoxy. First was the disunity that pervades Protestant Christianity. If we all share the same Holy Spirit, why are there so many differing interpretations of God's Word? These divisions contradict Christ's desire for His Church to be one (John 17:20–23; Ephesians 4:4–6). Orthodoxy offers a remedy: a continuous tradition grounded in apostolic teachings, where Scripture is interpreted within the life of the Church.

I was also troubled by the casualness with which Protestantism often approaches the Eucharist, reducing it to a symbol following Zwingli's interpretation rather than the ancient understanding. We have removed Christ from the center of worship and substituted a sermon. Orthodoxy, by contrast, views the Eucharist as the true Body and Blood of Christ — real communion with God, at the very center of Christian worship.

Finally, I observed how many churches have bent to societal pressures, adapting beliefs to fit the times. I longed for a faith that does not change with the prevailing winds of culture. In Eastern Orthodoxy, I found a tradition that resists this tendency, remaining faithful to the teachings handed down by the apostles for over two millennia.

Coming Home

Eastern Orthodoxy is ancient yet alive, timeless and transcendent, mysterious but tangible, holy and humble, incarnational and iconic, heavenly yet earthly, historical but unchanging, and overwhelmingly beautiful yet so biblical. It is here, in the arms of the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church, that I find myself truly home.