“People on The Way: Father Les”
“The one who truly follows Christ will draw people unto Him without speaking a word.” Marshall Davis, “The Tao of Christ”
(Father Les and me at St. Columba Church. Note the icon of Columba in his coracle behind the altar)
Wisdom Incarnate. A Renaissance Man. Spiritual Yoda. Humble Servant.
Those are some of the ways I’d describe Father Les. But he’s much more, and much less.
I first met him when I returned from Scotland in 2015. I was missing Iona horribly, and was without a church home. Providentially I happened to stumble upon, and then into, St. Columba Orthodox church in Lafayette, Colorado. I went not for the orthodox part, though I’d always had an infatuation with orthodoxy, but for the St. Columba part. Columba is the patron saint of Scotland, and the founder of the original monastic community at Iona.
The huge icon of Jesus behind the altar greeted me. But what really drew me in were the other original icons and paintings of Columba and Iona. All of them, I would come to discover, hand-painted by Father Les, an artist. His affinity for Scotland was the result of having spent a sabbatical year from Regis University, where he taught theology, doing graduate studies at St. Andrews in Scotland. I felt as if I had met my spiritual Anam Cara.
Initially I appreciated his humbly reverent approach to being a priest, a pastor, and a preacher. He spoke genuinely and compassionately, yet with authority. Due to his influence I was chrismated (confirmed) in the orthodox church.[1] Over the years Father Les became more than my priest, more than my confessor, more than my spiritual guide and mentor, he became my friend.
We began spending time together outside of the Sunday mass. Most of the time he would invite me to his home for happy hour and/or dinner. We would talk theology, paint icons, or discuss books that we’d been reading. He has an incredibly extensive library in his home. But reading is only one of his hobbies. He also paints, not just icons but other works of art that are what I would describe as “The East meets spiritual orthodox mysticism in Colorado.” You’d have to see it. He also has a huge toy train set in his basement, and restores old cars, most of them Volvos. Another story.
Perhaps what enamored me more than anything was the story of his spiritual journey. He grew up Southern Baptist. He became more and more distraught by the traditional “Hell, fire and brimstone” messages. As he describes it, one Sunday he came home and realized that he could never live up to God’s standards, no mattered how hard he tried. So, he decided to leave. He became Buddhist for a time. And then he met his wife Sue, who was an Episcopalian. Love is a strong spiritual motivator, so he became Episcopalian. Eventually he was ordained a priest, and for a time served part-time in that capacity. But when the Episcopalian church began to drift further and further from what Les believed was Truth, he converted to Orthodoxy, and eventually became a priest in the Western Rite.
This past Thursday night I was with Les again. We had our happy hour and then ate bratwurst and sauerkraut on delicious bakery buns. Our conversation then turned to spiritual matters. Suddenly, and rather unexpectedly he opened up, recounting a recent personal experience he’d had.
I’d love to share the details with you, as I’m sure it would be as impactful for you as it was for me. But I can’t. I didn’t ask his permission to share that confidential information. I can tell you that he spoke of being suddenly overcome by a presence that he could only describe as “welcoming.”
I asked for details such as where he was and what he was doing at the time. There was nothing special or significantly “sacred” that would’ve prompted such an experience. He was merely in his home, sitting in a chair, and it happened. We talked about it for a while, and it led us into speaking more of the presence of God, especially in relation to death.
I’ve been pondering our conversation, especially the part about the presence of God. At some point I realized that every time I’m with Les, I’m experiencing a divine, welcoming, presence. But the beauty of this, and Les LOVES the concept of Beauty as it describes and reveals God, is that this sacred presence is not limited to one particular sacred place or person. It is found in a welcoming of others.
[1] I told Father Les at the time that I would be the worst member he’d ever had. I fulfilled that promise after he retired by leaving St. Columba and the orthodox church.