Church

Most people don't realize how religious I am. I use the word "religious" instead of "spiritual," not because my faith is supported by any one organized religion, but because my faith is as doctrinal as any religion. It doesn't matter that the doctrines are my own. There are teachings I embrace fervently and devoutly, and there are others that I reject just as fervently and devoutly. However, this post isn't about what I do or don't believe. It's about sharing my faith within a congregation of believers.

While I was in China, I tried to find a church that I could go to. There was a church that I could find my way to without any trouble, but it was evangelical. Evangelism is one of those doctrines I reject. There was a Catholic church, which I probably would have felt comfortable in, but the distance was somewhat prohibitive. Add to that the liturgy being in Chinese, and it just wasn't a feasible choice.

When I arrived here in Atka, I asked about the local church. I knew that one existed, and that it was Russian Orthodox, but that was all I knew. I tried to find out about services, but everyone I asked was strangely vague.

I was finally able to get information about the church, and today I attended the service. The interior of the church was relatively plain, with white walls and brownish-red painted woodwork and trim. The artwork on the walls was framed, painted icons, stylistically similar to medieval paintings, with gold accents. There were six large windows, each topped with a lunette. There were no pews, but there were a few chairs along the back wall. Otherwise, the floor space was empty. Near the center of the space was a table with a large, gold-covered book and candles. There was a little side table with a small bowl and some spoons. The front of the church had a small stage, with steps leading up to it. The wall at the back of this stage area was actually a screen for the altar, with doors. Most of the icons in the church were on this wall/screen.

There were three women, four men, and two children in the congregation, as well as two altar boys, two readers and three choir members. The congregation was separated by gender. In the absence of a priest, the service was led by the readers. Both they and the choir stood with their backs to the congregation, facing the altar behind the screen. At different times, the doors were opened. The bowl turned out to contain something for communion. I don't know what it was, since I didn't take communion.

Nearly all of the service, including reading the gospel, was sung or chanted. The thing that I noticed the most was that some of the music sounded like the opening of the "1812 Overture." I looked it up when I got home, and no wonder it sounded familiar. The opening is based on a Russian Orthodox hymn. Now I get to reteach that lesson, using the hymn as a way to get the kids engaged in listening. The fact that I get to scold them for missing the hymn the first time we listened is gravy!

I enjoyed the service. The setting was beautiful and restful. I could see the snowy mountains and an unusually blue sky through the windows. There wasn't as much spirit or vibrancy or whatever you want to call it, but I suspect that was because of the small numbers of faithful. I'll probably go again, learning to add my faith to what's already there.