The interior of the mobile chapel belonging to St. Job of Pochaiv Orthodox Church in Los Alamos. The mobile chapel draws great interest at Ashley Pond during community concerts. Courtesy photo
BY FATHER THEOPHAN MACKEY
St. Job of Pochaiv Orthodox Church
Los Alamos
On my way back from Greenville, South Carolina and the wedding last month, my flight was scheduled to make a layover in the Baltimore airport. I was supposed to stay on the same plane and continue on to Albuquerque.
About the time the first flight was to depart, it was delayed for an estimated four hours on account of a mechanical issue. Now, I am all for taking the time to fix mechanical issues when they arise in commercial aircraft that I am about to embark in, but I was put out none the less.
My traveling companions, children in tow, switched flights to go through Nashville instead, and keep their delay shorter. I prayed that the mechanical issue would not take four hours to remedy.
A half-hour passed, and I received an automated text message. I had been rebooked on a flight that left in ten hours. I was not looking forward to a twelve hour stay in the Greenville airport. I walked the length of the airport and visited each airline represented. No one had a flight that left earlier or for a price that I was willing to pay.
I returned, slightly dejected, to my original gate, and began again the vigil for the recovery and health of my original aircraft. And to bewail my fate.
An hour passed, now two hours from our original scheduled departure, and there came an announcement over the public address system. The mechanical issue had been resolved, and the flight would commence shortly. A relieved collective sigh emanated from the assembly.
I once again got in line to change my flight back to the one originally scheduled.
The flight was not packed full, for many had made other arrangements. But when we arrived at Baltimore, we did need to deplane and get a new flight… to Nashville.
Now, I dislike flying. I find it generally uncomfortable, cramped, and I am not entirely sure that I believe in heavier than air flight. It all seems a bit too magical for me, to wake up at home and go to bed that same evening 1,400 miles or more away.
But I do like airports when I am traveling alone. When I travel alone, I wear my black cassock and cross. (When I am with my family, I travel in street clothes to avoid unwanted attention for them.) Clerical garb affords me interactions that I would not have otherwise. I have often been asked for blessings and prayers, had theological debates, and provided care to people that they would not have accepted it from someone who was not clergy. Only twice have I ever experienced something negative in an airport for having worn my cassock. That’s a price I’ll gladly pay.
As it happened, with general seating, I sat down on the filght to Nashville, next to a pleasant Greek Orthodox woman and we had a lovely conversation about theology, iconography, and child rearing. She is active in her church and runs an elevator inspection company.
When we disembarked ninety minutes later, she thanked me for my presence and ministry, and conveyed how much our little visit meant to her.
It meant much to me as well.
As I met up with my previous travel companions to join them on their flight to Albuquerque (they had skipped Baltimore), it occurred to me that I would not have that ninety minute conversation if there had not been a mechanical issue.
Just so.
Maybe our conversation is what she needed that day. Maybe it is what I needed that day.
In the Nashville airport, I got to say hello to my Coptic friends who run the kebab stand in the D Concourse, and grab another falafel sandwich (Chef’s kiss!).
The flight to Albuquerque was smooth and uneventful, and I arrived safely at home eight hours after I was originally scheduled. Safe, sound, and tired.
Delays are unexpected and inconvenient, but sometimes, if we look for it, it is where providence can meet us.