Attending Regional Retreats | Fruit Snacks

Attending Regional Retreats | Fruit Snacks

I think October may be my favorite month of the OCF season. Obviously, it’s Orthodox Awareness Month, so a ton of chapters across the nation are completing challenges and racking up points as they grow the influence and awareness of their OCF chapter. That’s unquestionably dope.

October is also awesome because there’s so many things for which to register–College Conference and Real Break are the first two, big programs that come to mind. The majority of the registrants for these programs come in this month, as students start planning how they’ll stay involved with OCF over their breaks.

But my favorite part of October is the massive swell of Regional Retreats (and other regional/district events, such as YES College Days). Though those big national programs have great merit, the power of OCF will always be the chapter life, and from the chapter life effortlessly blossoms the district and regional community.

Which brings us to the best thing ever: Regional Retreats.

Peter Savas, ladies and gentlemen

If you’re in the Midwest (what’s good fam?) then I have great news and terrible news: you have a Regional Retreat coming up!…and it’s already full. But hey: Northeast and Northwest–get a move on!

Mid-Atlantic? Yinz..Y’inz’s?…y’all’s already happened. Hope you didn’t slack.

I like to tout district and regional events as that natural extension of chapter life, but even for folks like me without a chapter, regional life becomes all the more crucial. It is the closest replacement for chapter life that can be achieved. I still remember my first Regional Retreat fondly: organized by current SLB chairwoman Nicole Petrow (but not really, shouts to Amelia Barron and Alexandra Mamalakis), it finally gave me a taste of that which I always imagined OCF provided.

I rolled up to Kenosha, Wisconsin in Peter Savas’s car, having endured the 1.5 hour trip through the Red Line and the Blue Line to make it to some church in northwest Chicago I didn’t even know. I sat in the back seat with Deanna Kolas and learned things about Minnesohta, like how to correctly pronounce Minnesohta.

We arrived late (100% Peter’s fault) and slid in to Fr. Patrick Reardon’s keynote session. Fr. Patrick’s mind-blowing, gang. He’s one of these priests that’s been everywhere and interfaced with every faith you can imagine and he just sat at a table with a Bible in front of him, quoting Scripture at least 200 times.

And he didn’t even open the Bible once. It was just there for show. The whole thing was up in his head.

He talked about the Stoics and Epicureans, the roles of women in the church, stupid stuff that Paul did when he was evangelizing. I just sat there and thought to myself how he could probably take any one of my professors to town and back four times over. I’m pretty sure Peter and I also ended up busting out in silent laughter for some reason–you know, that pinch-your-nose-and-grab-your-sides-cause-you’re-trying-not-to-make-noise laughter? Can’t for the life of me remember why. I feel like Welch’s fruit snacks were involved, but that’s all I’ve got.

Image may contain: 3 people, people sitting, table and indoor

Fr. Pat, with Bible.

I had cool camp connections with a bunch of people I didn’t think I would–I knew Elias Pagones’ sister and somebody’s else’s friend or cousin or something. Maria Pavlos and I talked bands (Glass Animals is Top-5 and alt-J is Top-3 don’t @ me) for like, two hours around the bonfire, and then proceeded to have a random Facebook Messenger conversation about it a few weeks post-retreat. Alexandra Mamalakis and I talked half-marathons and all the smart people in her family at 1 in the morning.

And we served a Paraklesis by candlelight. That was a fantastic Paraklesis.

Everything I ever wanted to get out of OCF, I got in little bite-sized pieces over that weekend. I miss St. Iakovos Retreat Center and the hanging icons in the tiny chapel and the unique icon of Christ in the welcome lodge. I miss that written telephone game and the huge monastery where I went to communion at the wrong time.

And that Midwest Retreat that’s all filled up? Yeah, I’m one of the names on the outside looking in.

I’ve got work that weekend–and don’t get me wrong, I love my job. I write about football. It’s the ideal situation for me, given that my usual outlet for work avoidance was, uh, football-watching. But I want to get back to that retreat more than just about anything, and I can’t.

Try a Regional Retreat. Not for me, but for yourself–unless “for me” really motivates you, in which case, try a Regional Retreat for me. If you’ve already gone, go again, because we should but I can’t so you must.

And be sure to remember what fruit snack-related humor puts you in stitches when you’re there.

Register for a Regional Retreat

Reflecting on the Midwest Regional Retreat | Register, Then Go

Reflecting on the Midwest Regional Retreat | Register, Then Go

I went to the Midwest Regional Retreat this weekend, and before it was even halfway over, I couldn’t wait to tell you about it. Here goes.

Let’s start with where I was, where my mindset was, before the retreat.

I went in knowing just one person, and I expected to leave only knowing a few more. I’m definitely not the most social person on the face of the planet–I like to stick to myself. I didn’t have a cadre of compatriots from my local OCF chapter in tow with me. I hadn’t been a two- or three- or four-year attendee of this retreat. I was new, and being new is scary, and being new and not the most social person on the face of the planet is even scarier.

That’s where I was, this past Friday, the day before the retreat–but more importantly, that’s where I was, three weeks ago, when I registered for the retreat. Even in all of that scariness, I still registered.

Now, you probably won’t be exactly where I was, but you might be close to where I was. And despite where I was–unsure, hesitant, afraid–I still registered. That, my friends, is my first recommendation to you: register.

14492454_1413230375371161_1019378655832550175_n

This is us. We’re pretty cool.

Most Regional Retreats are free. There’s neither harm nor foul in registering and being unable to attend. There is, however, both harm and foul in failing to register, then being able and willing and wishing to attend. The harm and foul being, of course, you miss out on the fantastic retreat.

Register. Register and get the drum-roll updates, register and get added to the Facebook group to start meeting your fellow retreat-mates. Register, and if you can’t make it, that’s okay. But don’t deprive yourself of the opportunity by failing to register. Don’t find yourself wishing you made a different decision three weeks ago.

Register, so that you can get to where I am now.

I feel so blessed. I only knew one guy headed to the retreat, and he had a spot in his car for me. The retreat was scheduled for my first weekend at college! One weekend earlier, and I wouldn’t have been able to make it. The schoolwork of the first week was not-so-overwhelming–not enough to prevent my attendance, at least. I’d even been to the retreat center before, which made me all the more comfortable.

.

Paraklesis

Thank God that all of these factors came together as they did. I told you I expected to leave only knowing a few more people–I stand before you, proudly proclaiming that I know and love several. I laughed, almost to the point of tears, with a day-old friend over a poorly drawn picture of invisible guitars; I listened, awestruck, as yesterday’s strangers spoke about their pilgrimages to Greece and their life-long dream to live in the mountains; I sung, rather poorly, the Paraklesis service with twenty other Orthodox Christian college students, and our off-key stumblings were some of the most beautiful notes I have ever heard.

This serves my second point. If the first was register, the second is this: then go.

Yes, it is laughably simple, for my two recommendations for Regional Retreats to be register, then go. However, I cannot honestly give you more earnest advice. I cannot tell you how to handle your shaky expectations, your nervousness, for I had no solution myself! I simply registered nonetheless. Nor can I tell you how to handle yourself while you are there, for that belongs to you and to God, not to me. I simply arrived and was myself.

And it could not have possibly gone better.

14568155_807352952737964_6117810943436270647_n

How could you say no to free bagels? I certainly didn’t.

Last week, I encouraged you to check yourself: to look at who you were, who you wanted to become, and if you were trending in that direction. This was an examination of your growth, but on a macroscopic scale. I find myself taking the same check-in, but on a microscopic scale: comparing the individual I was before this weekend to the individual I am afterward.

The difference is both striking in magnitude and encouraging in effect. I am better than I was, trending upward, growing stronger. And all I did was register, then go.

So, the only advice I can give you is simply as such: register, then go.

-B

If you want to learn more about your Regional Retreat, click here!