Source: The National Herald By Tony Glaros When I think about my Orthodox faith, where I would instinctively head to gather my core, the road always led straight to the Byzantine structure with the Greek Orthodox sign. Given my Hellenic heritage, the subject of where I spent two hours on Sunday morning was not up for debate. My unbreakable connection to Greek denotes where my forebears sailed here from. It wasn’t Russian. It wasn’t Serbian. Forty years ago, if I were to come across a fellow worshipper who dared to admit they were Russian or Bulgarian Orthodox visiting the…