Our Woman of the Week, Christine Kelly, was nominated for the way she lives her Orthodox beliefs into her work as the dean of a major university. We asked her to tell you about herself:
"My journey to Orthodoxy began, unexpectedly, in the woodlands of Eastern Pennsylvania. A college freshman, I was just beginning my first term at Messiah College, a liberal arts college whose religious identity – a major component of its institutional mission – is organized around the Anabaptist, Pietist and Wesleyan traditions emerging from the Protestant Reformation. In a setting that might, at first blush, appear the unlikeliest of places, I experienced my first encounter with the Orthodox church.
"I enrolled at Messiah in the fall of 2007 a devoted Christian, but very much a wanderer, having spent my upbringing in a range of church communities, from Episcopalian to Roman Catholic to Evangelical Free. While faithfulness to the figure of Christ was (and remains) paramount in my approach to faith and spirituality, I never felt completely at home as a member of these communities. Against the backdrop of my upbringing, I enrolled in what was, effectively, a writing course, but one that tasked us first year students to improve our writing skills through exploring church history. A course requirement stipulated that we visit an “Eastern Orthodox” church, which I, an early career college student, set out to do with equal measures of dutifulness and anxiety.
"On a sunny October morning, surrounded by classmates, I stepped inside of Christ the Saviour Orthodox Church in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. In a region better known for its proximity to mining towns and “plain people” farming communities, I entered the church, an experience that resembled a crossing over into another world. But I found this world, in the words of Metropolian Kallistos Ware, himself a convert to the faith, “strange yet familiar.” I looked about and noticed multiple, simultaneous on goings: prayers and chants; candle-lighting and icon-kissing; priests and deacons shuffling inside and outside of an altar. For all of the ornate beauty that overwhelmed my senses and the many liturgical practices that then (I must admit) surprised and confused me, I also noticed a solemn parishioner crossing himself throughout the service with long, meditative arm strokes and bows. I was struck by what I couldn’t help to conclude was deeply felt and lived spirituality in this environment. Not far from the Susquehanna River, I encountered heaven.
"Received into the church a few years later, practices at once new and bewildering are now woven into the fabric of my being. Membership in multiple parishes across Pennsylvania, the United Kingdom, Washington D.C., and New York has accompanied my journey in the last decade through graduate school and into my current profession. As a member of the laity, I have long enjoyed quietly sitting or standing during matins, reflecting on the stories told through church iconography before Sunday Divine Liturgy commences, redirecting my often scattered thoughts toward Christ, the Theotokos, and the saintly “cloud of witnesses.” In these moments, I think especially of Christ’s journey with Luke and Cleopas on the road to Emmaus. I sometimes feel that – when all else is stripped away – this story, one that reflects the patience of Jesus against an earnest but limited faithful, also reflects the story of my life as an Orthodox Christian. And so I begin again, at the outset of every week, to “lay aside” my earthly cares in awe and love."
Axia!
Our Woman of the Week, Christine Kelly, has been working as a dean at a major research university during the pandemic. We asked her what that has been like:
"Not long ago, I heard a panelist at a professional conference describe higher education administration as an opportunity to “mute the self” in order to amplify others. I couldn’t help but to think of St. John the Baptist, who considered himself a friend and helper to Christ. “He must become greater,” said John, “I must become less.”
"These words guide my approach to my current profession. I work for Fordham University’s Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, in the role of Assistant Dean for Student Professional Development. I also teach undergraduate courses in Fordham’s Department of History. My role derives from a longstanding interest in the graduate student experience, and overlaps with a dialogue in higher education circles organized around reforming traditional approaches to graduate education. Having recently obtained a Ph.D. in History, in the latter years of my graduate program I became concerned with the long stretches of isolation, combined with an oversaturated job market for assistant professors, that appeared to shape both my present and future as an academically trained historian. Such concerns took a toll on my well-being, and I became convinced that, the rigors of graduate training notwithstanding, it was possible to forge a healthier and more hopeful experience.
"Today, I work with a diverse and dedicated team, including several innovative and energetic graduate students at the Master’s and doctoral level, to enhance graduate student support services on several fronts. Together, we develop, streamline and enhance support mechanisms to augment graduate student mental health and well-being, students’ capacity to negotiate mentoring relationships, and their growth as not only scholars, but highly skilled professionals.
"Many of the long-term priorities that my role enables me to pursue were temporarily abandoned this spring in favor of far more pressing needs. The rapid onset of the Covid-19 pandemic in the New York City metropolitan region made my team’s work more vital than ever before. Fordham’s swift transition from in-person to remote operations – a transition informed by Covid epidemiology – meant long days and nights as we developed new support resources for students navigating a disorienting time, and mastered new forms of technology that have allowed us, since then, to hold a number of virtual events on behalf of the graduate student community. My decision to teach an undergraduate course in the spring 2020 semester introduced a series of separate, if overlapping challenges, and I thank my students for their unrelenting patience as I clumsily adapted to distance pedagogy (an exercise that included far too many long-winded lectures uploaded to YouTube!).
"At the moment, I’ll candidly confess that I spend much of my daily routine prioritizing headache prevention. A doctor was recently assured me that I am healthy (if too often dehydrated), but I must admit that, when the NYC lockdown began, I found myself burning the candle at both ends. During the darkest times – when, for example, Covid-19 case numbers were high and only rising – I relied heavily on support from fellow parishioners at St. Gregory the Theologian Orthodox Mission, housed at NYC’s Union Theological Seminary. Zoom church gatherings – including a full spate of Holy Week services – were deeply comforting at a time of great need. As I listened to beautiful renditions of “The Noble Joseph,” and, later, “The Angel Cried” over Zoom, I was reminded that even when our lives lay a cross before us, that no darkness can suppress the light of the risen Christ."
We asked Christine Kelly, our Woman of the Week, about her morning routine:
"I hesitate to admit it, but the weekday alarm clock that sounded between 5 and 6 a.m. pre-quarantine is currently snoozed until close to 7:45. I rise and, most days, make a sign of the cross before busying myself with the day’s preparations. These include tidying my bed and general surroundings, brewing coffee, and fixing up my personal presentation for work. The cup of coffee is an increasingly special treat. I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine consumption, and thanks to the miracle of herbal coffee, these efforts are largely working. But I do still allow for a morning cup of the real thing!
"With the coffee prepared, I then work on tidying up my appearance for the day. Since I began working remotely, it’s not uncommon for me to spend upwards of 4 – 5 hours daily on Zoom calls, so I’ve chosen to keep this part of my routine unaltered in recent months. During these preparations, I’m usually listening to music or a news program – or talking to my mom! If music is on, it’s more than likely a tune from a Paul Simon album. Having spent my time in graduate school researching the historical significance of American folk and popular music in mid-twentieth century American society, the words and melodies of folk musicians and singer-songwriters have a special meaning to me. Lately, it’s pretty common for the South African rhythms of Simon’s 1986 album Graceland to reverberate across my apartment in the morning, and I think a lot about the spirituality of the song “Graceland” for which the album is named. The messiness, complexity and sheer unpredictability of our lives notwithstanding, God’s grace is sufficient. Simon muses similarly, reflecting on his “reason to believe” that we will be “received in Graceland,” a lyrical metaphor that evokes images of life’s ebbs and flows, but, as I believe, culminating in being received into the folds of Christ’s love and mercy.
"With minimal time to spare, I next heat up a quick breakfast, usually multigrain waffles with peanut butter and honey. I text a morning “hello” to my boyfriend in a neighboring NYC borough, and, finally, slide into a home office chair just before 9 a.m. arrives. A Zoom check-in meeting with work teammates marks my morning routine’s end. Periodically throughout the day, while weaving in and out of meetings, e-mails and reports, I petition the Lord for a day of grace."
Thank you, Christine!