Holy Prophet Jonah icon written by Father Theophan. Courtesy photo

St. John of the Ladder, Greenville, South Carolina. Courtesy photo

Father Theophan Mackey. Courtesy photo

BY FATHER THEOPHAN MACKEY
St. Job of Pochaiv Orthodox Church
Los Alamos

This past week I had the pleasure and great opportunity to attend an iconography workshop in Carnegie, a small suburb of Pittsburg. I stayed with my parents in West Virginia right across the state border. Adjacent to the class, I conducted a wedding ceremony in a beautiful Orthodox church in Greenville, South Carolina, and served a liturgy in Anderson, nearby.

I feel like breaking into song with Johnny Cash, “I’ve been everywhere, man…”

Other than the airline trip back home, which is worth a novel in itself for all the twists and turns it made, the trip went off without a hitch. I’m safe and more or less sound, shaking off a touch of jetlag.

Seeing the guard station at the edge of town and making my way down Trinity Drive on Monday night was such a blessing. There is something wonderful about being home. The other towns I visited were nice in their own way, some 100+ year old architecture, varied and sundry shopping centers, and pizza… don’t get me started. But, all that said, they didn’t hold a candle to my home.

I have been reflecting on that. I have recently heard and read criticisms over the lack of available choices in dining and shopping. I have listened to my friends who work with our local non-profits who are feeling the squeeze. Acquaintances looking for affordable housing have bemoaned their lot for the last ten years.

Now, I will freely admit that I am a severe extrovert and anyone who has met me can attest. But I am also a homebody. I love my parish and my community and will extol their virtues and defend them against anyone who says that their town is better.

G. K. Chesterton, as he so often does, puts a fine point on it (substitute Los Alamos for Pimlico if you will):

It is not enough for a man to disapprove of Pimlico (an awful part of London in his time); in that case he will merely cut his throat or move to Chelsea. Nor, certainly, is it enough for a man to approve of Pimlico; for then it will remain Pimlico, which would be awful. The only way out of it seems to be for somebody to love Pimlico; to love it with a transcendental tie and without any earthly reason. If there arose a man who loved Pimlico, then Pimlico would rise into ivory towers and golden pinnacles… If men loved Pimlico as mothers love children, arbitrarily, because it is theirs, Pimlico in a year or two might be fairer than Florence. Some readers will say that this is mere fantasy. I answer that this is the actual history of mankind. This, as a fact, is how cities did grow great.

Los Alamos is a wonderful place, a gem. It has its problems and issues (we must admit and own these problems so that they can be remedied and not repeated) but it also has some of the kindest, smartest, and most generous people I have ever met.

When all is said and done, once we’ve got the griping and venting out of our system, we need to remember to love our town. If we all do that, Los Alamos will rise to our expectations and be a place of joy, and peace, and community.

It would be possible and of great benefit to extend this to the entirety of our nation as well. That’s an even greater challenge.

We can do it.

I’ll start.