Meals for the Soul — Orthodox Resources

Becoming Orthodox

What the Catechumenate Is Actually Like

The steps, in order, with honest timings — including the part of the service where you will be asked to spit, which nobody warns people about.

By Nicholas Evoy About 6 minutes to read Sources listed at the end

Jump to The order of things The rite, and the part nobody mentions How long it takes How you will be received — and a genuine disagreement A godparent A name The day What is expected of you in the meantime What people actually find hard

There is an article here on what a catechumen is and another on how someone becomes Orthodox. This one is the practical shape of it: what happens, in what order, roughly how long, and what people find hard.

One warning before anything else. Almost everything below varies — by jurisdiction, by bishop, and by the priest in front of you. Where sources disagree, this article says so rather than picking one. Your priest decides your case; a website cannot.

The order of things

Inquirer. You are coming to services, reading, and talking to the priest. There is no ceremony and no commitment. Many people stay here for a long time, and that is not failure.

The Rite of Making a Catechumen. A short service, usually before or after a Liturgy, that formally enrols you.

The catechumenate. Months of instruction, attendance and conversation.

Reception. Baptism, or chrismation, or in a few cases a confession of faith — followed immediately by your first communion.

The rite, and the part nobody mentions

This is worth describing properly, because people arrive at it unprepared and it startles them.

In the standard form published by the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese, the candidate stands facing east while the priest breathes on the face three times and signs the forehead and breast with the cross. Then come three prayers of exorcism — asking God to drive out every unclean spirit. That language is not softened, and it is not metaphorical in the service’s own terms.

The candidate then turns to face west — the direction the tradition associates with darkness — raises the hands, and is asked three times: Do you renounce Satan, and all his works, and all his worship, and all his angels, and all his pomp?

And after the renunciation, you blow and spit. Physically. That is in the rite.

Then you turn back east, lower your hands, and are asked three times whether you join yourself to Christ. You say the Creed. You bow and worship Him.

An Antiochian parish describes the same shape independently — the threshold, the plain clothes, west then east — so this is not one parish’s idiosyncrasy. Details of wording and rubric differ between service books.

Nobody tells you about the spitting. Now someone has.

How long it takes

The honest answer is a range, not a number.

North American parishes across the OCA and the Antiochian Archdiocese converge on something like six months to a year, sometimes considerably longer, and they say plainly that it depends on the bishop, the jurisdiction, and where the person actually is. Many parishes aim for reception at Pascha, which pulls the timetable backward into Lent.

For contrast: the Apostolic Tradition attributed to Hippolytus says catechumens should hear the word for three years. The modern catechumenate is much shorter than the ancient one, and Orthodox sources say so themselves rather than pretending otherwise.

If it is taking longer than you expected, that is not a verdict on you.

How you will be received — and a genuine disagreement

Three paths exist:

This is one of the places where sincere Orthodox Christians disagree sharply, and it would be dishonest to flatten it. Some clergy and communities hold that a prior Trinitarian baptism should be received by chrismation; others practise or advocate baptising every convert regardless. Fr Seraphim Rose, who is often claimed by the stricter side, argued against that practice as a sectarian instinct. Historians of the American Church document the disagreement running back a long way.

What every source agrees on is the procedure: the priest decides in consultation with the bishop, and in any case of doubt about a prior baptism the hierarch must be consulted. You cannot work out your own case from reading, and you should not try.

A godparent

You will need an Orthodox sponsor in good standing — someone actually practising, known to the parish. In most places the priest must bless the choice before you ask, so he is part of the decision rather than a rubber stamp.

What is asked of them is real but not enormous: to know the faith or learn it alongside you, to be present, and to keep being present afterwards.

If you know no Orthodox Christians at all — which is common — this is arranged through the priest, who will normally pair you with someone in the parish. That is the usual route rather than a published rule.

A name

You will take a saint’s name. There is no fixed method: the Orthodox Church in America says outright that there is no universal, standard way one is chosen. Some take a saint commemorated near their birthday; many adult converts take the name of a saint whose life meant something to them on the way in. Discuss it with your priest — and read the life properly first, because you will be hearing that name for the rest of your life.

The day

You will be told what to bring — usually a white baptismal garment, a cross, and a candle. If you are being baptised it is full immersion in most practice, and you should expect to be genuinely wet.

Chrismation follows, and then, in the same service, you receive communion for the first time. That is the point of all of it.

What is expected of you in the meantime

Attendance — Sunday Liturgy certainly, Vespers and feasts when you can manage them. Instruction, in a class or one to one. Reading. A daily prayer rule, kept small. Learning the fasting seasons. And meeting the priest regularly, which is the part that actually does the work.

Catechumens do not receive communion. You are, in the Church’s own language, not yet within its canonical boundaries — which sounds colder than it feels in practice, since you are prayed for by name and blessed at every service.

On being dismissed: in some parishes catechumens leave the church after the Litany of the Catechumens, part way through the Liturgy. In others they stay. An Antiochian parish argues that the physical dismissal is a twentieth-century revival rather than an unbroken practice. Both happen; ask what your parish does rather than being caught out.

What people actually find hard

Not the theology.

The length. Orthodoxy is not something you finish, and the catechumenate is deliberately slow. People who arrive at a run find this maddening.

Family. A spouse or parents may hear “I am becoming Orthodox” as “I am leaving you.” Orthodox pastoral writing on this is consistent: patience and shared worship do more than argument, and pressing the case usually costs more than it gains.

Convert zeal. This is written about constantly by Orthodox priests, which tells you how common it is. The pattern: a few months in, you know more theological vocabulary than most of the parish and less than almost anyone about actually living it, and the temptation is to start correcting people — relatives, cradle Orthodox, strangers on the internet. Fr Andrew Stephen Damick names it as zeal not according to knowledge, which curdles into rigorism.

The practical counsel from one Antiochian parish is the best short version: get a spiritual father and actually listen to him; assume the quiet people in the back know things you do not; if something about the parish troubles you, raise it in confession rather than posting it.

A note. These articles explain what the Orthodox Church teaches and why. They are not spiritual direction. Anything touching your own rule of prayer, fasting or confession belongs with your priest or spiritual father, who knows you and your circumstances.

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