Fr. Paisius Altschul Conversion Story - Part I

Almost a year ago, I wrote a little bit about the 11th annual Ancient Christianity & African-American Conference which I attended in Portland. Fr. Paisius Altschul, a priest who serves at St. Mary of Egypt Orthodox Church in Kansas City, is one of the primary people responsible for this conference. I just read his conversion story in the introduction to a new edition of The Northern Thebaid and want to share it mainly with those of you who are being drawn to Orthodoxy. Fr. Paisius' story may ring a bell with you...I know it did with me.

Since his story is a bit lengthy for a blog entry, I will break it up into three installments over the next three days. To the Fathers at St. Herman's of Alaska Monastery and Fr. Paisius--please forgive me for my not contacting you before copying this to my blog. I will email you and ask permission, and will remove it if you desire. Somehow, I don't think you'll mind...but I could be wrong.

Since 1987, a small group of Christians from various backgrounds were seeking to reach out to those in need in the name of Christ. We worked with a high number of clients that suffered from traumatic abuse. In addition, we provided housing and support for men and women who had recently been released from jail. The pressures of this kind of ministry were driving me, as a Protestant pastor, to go deeper into prayer and spiritual life.

I was inspired by the story of St. Moses the Black. The implications of his transformation from a gang leader to a Desert Father challenged me to think more deeply about monasticism. The sayings of the Desert Fathers struck me with their insight into human nature and openness to God. The life of St. Mary of Egypt showed not only the hope of change for someone caught in their passions, but made it clear that getting free was a process and not a 'quick fix.'

During this period, a homeless man recommended that I read The Way of a Pilgrim so as to be more consistent in prayer. I began practicing the Jesus Prayer and reading The Philokalia. My heart was warmed and regularly moved in prayer and reading. Yet a question kept coming to me: Were there any that experienced such depths in prayer closer to our own time?

Then one day, as I was researching Orthodoxy in the Kansas City Public Library, I came across a book called The Northern Thebaid. This was one book that I couldn't put down. It was like I was passing through a house, being introduced in each room to some of the most amazing treasures of the Church. Again, my heart was inwardly warmed.

As I read about St. Sergius of Radonezh, St. Nilus of Sora, St. Paul of Obnora, and St. Seraphim of Sarov, I realized that my question about Desert Fathers closer to our own time was being answered. As Prof. I. M. Kontzevitch had written in the introduction, 'St. Seraphim is separated from St. Onuphrius by fifteen centuries, but the mystical phenomena are one and the same. St. Seraphim is almost our contemporary: some of us have know those who have personally seen him.

-- to be continued