My Big Fat Greek Church

Even though Creighton is about as Catholic of as school as you can get (although I really don't know if that's true, I'm just assuming), I am not exactly Catholic. One thing I like about Creighton is that they're not judgmental about people being of another faith. Last year, as I talked about in previous posts, one roommate was Jewish, one was Roman Catholic, one didn't go to church, and I was Greek Orthodox. Granted, being Greek Orthodox is the next-door neighbor to Catholicism, but being an "outsider," I can find the differences in style. I'm not anti-Catholicism (I usually attend Catholic candlelight mass when I couldn't make it to liturgy that morning), but I prefer going to my own church. So, interestingly enough, there is a Greek Orthodox church about 4 minutes from campus and making it there saves me so much money on gas that I would have been spending had I still being going to the Antiochian church out on 108th Street. The church is really interesting when you look at it on face value.

St. John the Baptist Greek Orthodox Church is an awesome place that actually used to be a synagogue and the people there are insanely nice. Going there without knowing anyone was a weird feeling, but they all were quick to introduce themselves. I've been going there for about a year and I feel a little easier about making the drive over there. One of my complaints about the church is that there are only a few people there my age. One is a girl who is a freshman in college and the other one I can't even say how old he is. But because the church has an unofficial assigned seating (much like my church back home), it's hard to meet people. The biggest culture clash I found while attending the church is that it's a REAL GREEK Orthodox church. What I mean by that is that the people who go there are GREEK. That's pretty much a no-brainer for everyone reading this, right? Why wouldn't there be Greeks at a Greek church? Well, the thing is that in Wichita there really isn't much of a Greek population, but the Lebanese population is HUGE. Also, Greek Orthodoxy is massive in Lebanon because of the Byzantine Empire (a little Middle Eastern history courtesy of Dr. Calvert). So back at the cathedral in Wichita, there aren't any Greeks, but all Lebanese people. It's interesting because in Wichita, a lot of stuff is done in Arabic, but here in Omaha all of those things are done in Greek. Hmm.






These are just a couple pictures I found on the church's website.

This was something that really hit home last spring when Pascha (Easter) rolled around. This was the first time that I had spent Easter away from my parents and I can't say that they were too happy that I was unable to spend it with them. Anywho, back in Wichita after the Midnight Pascha service, there is a huge party where everyone breaks the fasting that they've done for lent. What the difference is is that in Wichita, all of these kickass Lebanese foods are made for the party. Here? Not so much. It's all Greek food. NOTHING AGAINST GREEK FOOD, BECAUSE IT'S DELICIOUS, but I was expecting some quousa, kibbe, and grape leaves.

But this past weekend was the mother-of-all Greek-ism barrages. So when a family has a baby and they want to bring it into the church, they wait for 40 days before they can take it to the service. The priest does something called "churching the baby" where he literally carries the little guy (or girl) into the main part of the church and up to the front while saying stuff in another language (Greek if you're in Omaha and Arabic if you're in Wichita). Where I sit is in the middle of the little-old-Greek-lady Ocean and they're all chomping at the bit to get to the baby. The funny thing is that they all look like extras from the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. I can't exactly put my finger on what exaclty it is, but they look like seteretypical Greek women.
As soon as the priest let go of the baby, the floodgates were opened and the swarm of old Greek ladies settled upon the young pup. Holy crap. I've never seen such a child show such an expression of complete and utter bewilderment EVER. His cheeks were pinched, the women made funny baby noises in futile attmeps to get the baby to crack up, and they all passed this little child around like he was a joint at Woodstock. Wow.

Hugs and kisses,
Chip

"I miss Lebanese food . . . a lot."