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by
Frederica Mathewes-Green
Orthodox
worship is different! Some of these differences are apparent,
if perplexing, from the first moment you walk in a church.
Others become noticeable only over time. Here is some information
that may help you feel more at home in Orthodox worship –
twelve things I wish I'd known before my first visit to an
Orthodox church.
1.
WHAT'S ALL THIS COMMOTION?
During the early part of the service the church may seem to
be in a hubbub, with people walking up to the front of the
church, praying in front of the iconostasis (the standing
icons in front of the altar), kissing things and lighting
candles, even though the service is already going on. In fact,
when you came in the service was already going on, although
the sign outside clearly said "Divine Liturgy, 9:30."
You felt embarrassed to apparently be late, but these people
are even later, and they're walking all around inside the
church. What's going on here?
In
an Orthodox church there is only one Eucharistic service (Divine
Liturgy) per Sunday, and it is preceded by an hour-long service
of Matins (or Orthros) and several short preparatory services
before that. There is no break between these services –
one begins as soon as the previous ends, and posted starting
times are just educated guesses. Altogether, the priest will
be at the altar on Sunday morning for over three hours, "standing
in the flame," as one Orthodox priest put it.
As
a result of this state of continuos flow, there is no point
at which everyone is sitting quietly in a pew waiting for
the entrance hymn to start, glancing at their watches approaching
9:30. Orthodox worshippers arrive at any point from the beginning
of Matins through the early part of the Liturgy, a span of
well over an hour. No matter when they arrive, something is
sure to be already going on, so Orthodox don't let this hamper
them from going through the private prayers appropriate to
just entering a church. This is distracting to newcomers,
and may even seem disrespectful, but soon you begin to recognize
it as an expression of a faith that is not merely formal but
very personal. Of course, there is still no good excuse for
showing up after 9:30, but punctuality is unfortunately one
of the few virtues many Orthodox lack.
2.
STAND UP, STAND UP FOR JESUS.
In the Orthodox tradition, the faithful stand up for nearly
the entire service. Really. In some Orthodox churches, there
won't even be any chairs, except a few scattered at the edges
of the room for those who need them. Expect variation in practice:
some churches, especially those that bought already-existing
church buildings, will have well-used pews. In any case, if
you find the amount of standing too challenging you're welcome
to take a seat. No one minds or probably even notices. Long-term
standing gets easier with practice.
3.
IN THIS SIGN.
To say that we make the sign of the cross frequently would
be an understatement. We sign ourselves whenever the Trinity
is invoked, whenever we venerate the cross or an icon, and
on many other occasions in the course of the Liturgy. But
people aren't expected to do everything the same way. Some
people cross themselves three times in a row, and some finish
by sweeping their right hand to the floor. On first entering
a church people may come up to an icon, make a "metania"
– crossing themselves and bowing with right hand to the
floor – twice, then kiss the icon, then make one more
metania. This becomes familiar with time, but at first it
can seem like secret-handshake stuff that you are sure to
get wrong. Don't worry, you don't have to follow suit.
We
cross with our right hands from right to left (push, not pull),
the opposite of Roman Catholics and high-church Protestants.
We hold our hands in a prescribed way: thumb and first two
fingertips pressed together, last two fingers pressed down
to the palm. Here as elsewhere, the Orthodox impulse is to
make everything we do reinforce the Faith. Can you figure
out the symbolism? (Three fingers together for the Trinity;
two fingers brought down to the palm for the two natures of
Christ, and his coming down to earth.) This, too, takes practice.
A beginner's imprecise arrangement of fingers won't get you
denounced as a heretic.
4.
WHAT, NO KNEELERS?
Generally, we don't kneel. We do sometimes prostrate. This
is not like prostration in the Roman Catholic tradition, lying
out flat on the floor. To make a prostration we kneel, place
our hands on the floor and touch our foreheads down between
our hands. It's just like those photos of middle-eastern worship,
which look to Westerners like a sea of behinds. At first prostration
feels embarrassing, but no one else is embarrassed, so after
awhile it feels OK. Ladies will learn that full skirts are
best for prostrations, as flat shoes are best for standing.
Sometimes
we do this and get right back up again, as during the prayer
of St. Ephraim the Syrian, which is used frequently during
Lent. Other times we get down and stay there awhile, as some
congregations do during part of the Eucharistic prayer.
Not
everyone prostrates. Some kneel, some stand with head bowed;
in a pew they might slide forward and sit crouched over. Standing
there feeling awkward is all right too. No one will notice
if you don't prostrate. In Orthodoxy there is a wider acceptance
of individualized expressions of piety, rather than a sense
that people are watching you and getting offended if you do
it wrong.
One
former Episcopal priest said that seeing people prostrate
themselves was one of the things that made him most eager
to become Orthodox. He thought, "That's how we should
be before God."
5.
WITH LOVE AND KISSES
We kiss stuff. When we first come into the church, we kiss
the icons (Jesus on the feet and other saints on the hands,
ideally). You'll also notice that some kiss the chalice, some
kiss the edge of the priest's vestment as he passes by, the
acolytes kiss his hand when they give him the censer, and
we all line up to kiss the cross at the end of the service.
When we talk about "venerating" something we usually
mean crossing ourselves and kissing it.
We
kiss each other before we take communion ("Greet one
another with a kiss of love," 1 Peter 5:14). When Roman
Catholics or high-church Protestants "pass the peace,"
they give a hug, handshake, or peck on the cheek; that's how
Westerners greet each other. In Orthodoxy different cultures
are at play: Greeks and Arabs kiss on two cheeks, and Slavs
come back again for a third. Follow the lead of those around
you and try not to bump your nose.
The
usual greeting is "Christ is in our midst" and response,
"He is and shall be." Don't worry if you forget
what to say. The greeting is not the one familiar to Episcopalians,
"The peace of the Lord be with you." Nor is it "Hi,
nice church you have here." Exchanging the kiss of peace
is a liturgical act, a sign of mystical unity. Chatting and
fellowship is for later.
6.
BLESSED BREAD AND CONSECRATED BREAD.
Only
Orthodox may take communion, but anyone may have some of the
blessed bread. Here's how it works: the round communion loaf,
baked by a parishioner, is imprinted with a seal. In the preparation
service before the Liturgy, the priest cuts out a section
of the seal and sets it aside; it is called the "Lamb".
The rest of the bread is cut up and placed in a large basket,
and blessed by the priest.
During
the eucharistic prayer, the Lamb is consecrated to be the
Body of Christ, and the chalice of wine is consecrated as
His Blood. Here's the surprising part: the priest places the
"Lamb" in the chalice with the wine. When we receive
communion, we file up to the priest, standing and opening
our mouths wide while he gives us a fragment of the wine-soaked
bread from a golden spoon. He also prays over us, calling
us by our first name or the saint-name which we chose when
we were baptized or chrismated (received into the church by
anointing with blessed oil).
As
we file past the priest, we come to an altar boy holding the
basket of blessed bread. People will take portions for themselves
and for visitors and non-Orthodox friends around them. If
someone hands you a piece of blessed bread, do not panic;
it is not the eucharistic Body. It is a sign of fellowship.
Visitors
are sometimes offended that they are not allowed to receive
communion. Orthodox believe that receiving communion is broader
than me-and-Jesus; it acknowledges faith in historic Orthodox
doctrine, obedience to a particular Orthodox bishop, and a
commitment to a particular Orthodox worshipping community.
There's nothing exclusive about this; everyone is invited
to make this commitment to the Orthodox Church. But the Eucharist
is the Church's treasure, and it is reserved for those who
have united themselves with the Church. An analogy could be
to reserving marital relations until after the wedding.
We
also handle the Eucharist with more gravity than many denominations
do, further explaining why we guard it from common access.
We believe it is truly the Body and Blood of Christ. We ourselves
do not receive communion unless we are making regular confession
of our sins to a priest and are at peace with other communicants.
We fast from all food and drink – yes, even a morning
cup of coffee – from midnight the night before communion.
This
leads to the general topic of fasting. When newcomers learn
of the Orthodox practice, their usual reaction is, "You
must be kidding." We fast from meat, fish, dairy products,
wine and olive oil nearly every Wednesday and Friday, and
during four other periods during the year, the longest being
Great Lent before Pascha (Easter). Altogether this adds up
to nearly half the year. Here, as elsewhere, expect great
variation. With the counsel of their priest, people decide
to what extent they can keep these fasts, both physically
and spiritually – attempting too much rigor too soon
breeds frustration and defeat. Nobody's fast is anyone else's
business. As St. John Chrysostom says in his beloved Paschal
sermon, everyone is welcomed to the feast whether they fasted
or not: "You sober and you heedless, honor the day...Rejoice
today, both you who have fasted and you who have disregarded
the fast."
The
important point is that the fast is not rigid rules that you
break at grave risk, nor is it a punishment for sin. Fasting
is exercise to stretch and strengthen us, medicine for our
souls' health. In consultation with your priest as your spiritual
doctor, you can arrive at a fasting schedule that will stretch
but not break you. Next year you may be ready for more. In
fact, as time goes by, and as they experience the camaraderie
of fasting together with a loving community, most people discover
they start relishing the challenge.
7.
WHERE'S THE GENERAL CONFESSION?
In
our experience, we don't have any general sins; they're all
quite specific. There is no complete confession-prayer in
the Liturgy. Orthodox are expected to be making regular, private
confession to their priest.
The
role of the pastor is much more that of a spiritual father
than it is in other denominations. He is not called by his
first name alone, but referred to as "Father Firstname."
His wife also holds a special role as parish mother, and she
gets a title too, though it varies from one culture to another:
either "Khouria" (Arabic), or "Presbytera"
(Greek), both of which mean "priest's wife;" or
"Matushka" (Russian), which means "Mama."
Another
difference you may notice is in the Nicene Creed, which may
be said or sung, depending on the parish. If we are saying
that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father, and you from
force of habit add, "and the Son," you will be alone.
The "filioque" was added to the Creed some six hundred
years after it was written, and we adhere to the original.
High-church visitors will also notice that we don't bow or
genuflect during the "and was incarnate." Nor do
we restrict our use of "Alleluia" during Lent (when
the sisters at one Episcopal convent are referring to it as
"the 'A' word"); in fact, during Matins in Lent,
the Alleluias are more plentiful than ever.
8.
MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC.
About seventy-five percent of the service is congregational
singing. Traditionally, Orthodox use no instruments, although
some churches will have organs. Usually a small choir leads
the people in a capella harmony, with the level of congregational
response varying from parish to parish. The style of music
varies as well, from very Oriental-sounding solo chant in
an Arabic church to more Western-sounding four-part harmony
in a Russian church, with lots of variation in between.
This
constant singing is a little overwhelming at first; it feels
like getting on the first step of an escalator and being carried
along in a rush until you step off ninety minutes later. It
has been fairly said that the liturgy is one continuous song.
What
keeps this from being exhausting is that it's pretty much
the "same" song every week. Relatively little changes
from Sunday to Sunday; the same prayers and hymns appear in
the same places, and before long you know it by heart. Then
you fall into the presence of God in a way you never can when
flipping from prayer book to bulletin to hymnal.
9.
MAKING EDITORS SQUIRM.
Is there a concise way to say something? Can extra adjectives
be deleted? Can the briskest, most pointed prose be boiled
down one more time to a more refined level? Then it's not
Orthodox worship. If there's a longer way to say something,
the Orthodox will find it. In Orthodox worship, more is always
more, in every area including prayer. When the priest or deacon
intones, "Let us complete our prayer to the Lord,"
expect to still be standing there fifteen minutes later.
The
original liturgy lasted something over five hours; those people
must have been on fire for God. The Liturgy of St. Basil edited
this down to about two and a half, and later (around 400 A.D.)
the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom further reduced it to about
one and a half. Most Sundays we use the St. John Chrysostom
liturgy, although for some services (e.g., Sundays in Lent,
Christmas Eve) we use the longer Liturgy of St. Basil.
10.
OUR CHAMPION LEADER
A constant feature of Orthodox worship is veneration of the
Virgin Mary, the "champion leader" of all Christians.
We often address her as "Theotokos," which means
"Mother of God." In providing the physical means
for God to become man, she made possible our salvation.
But
though we honor her, as Scripture foretold ("All generations
will call me blessed," Luke 1:48), this doesn't mean
that we think she or any of the other saints have magical
powers or are demi-gods. When we sing "Holy Theotokos,
save us," we don't mean that she grants us eternal salvation,
but that we seek her prayers for our protection and growth
in faith. Just as we ask for each other's prayers, we ask
for the prayers of Mary and other saints as well. They're
not dead, after all, just departed to the other side. Icons
surround us to remind us of all the saints who are joining
us invisibly in worship.
11.
THE THREE DOORS.
Every Orthodox church will have an iconostasis before its
altar. "Iconostasis" means "icon-stand",
and it can be as simple as a large image of Christ on the
right and a corresponding image of the Virgin and Child on
the left. In a more established church, the iconostasis may
be a literal wall, adorned with icons. Some versions shield
the altar from view, except when the central doors stand open.
The
basic set-up of two large icons creates, if you use your imagination,
three doors. The central one, in front of the altar itself,
is called the "Holy Doors" or "Royal Doors,"
because there the King of Glory comes out to the congregation
in the Eucharist. Only the priest and deacons, who bear the
Eucharist, use the Holy Doors.
The
openings on the other sides of the icons, if there is a complete
iconostasis, have doors with icons of angels; they are termed
the "Deacon's Doors." Altar boys and others with
business behind the altar use these, although no one is to
go through any of the doors without an appropriate reason.
Altar service – priests, deacons, altar boys – is
restricted to males. Females are invited to participate in
every other area of church life. Their contribution has been
honored equally with men's since the days of the martyrs;
you can't look at an Orthodox altar without seeing Mary and
other holy women. In most Orthodox churches, women do everything
else men do: lead congregational singing, paint icons, teach
classes, read the epistle, and serve on the parish council.
12.
WHERE DOES AN AMERICAN FIT IN?
Flipping through the Yellow Pages in a large city you might
see a multiplicity of Orthodox churches: Greek, Romanian,
Carpatho-Russian, Antiochian, Serbian, and on and on. Is Orthodoxy
really so tribal? Do these divisions represent theological
squabbles and schisms?
Not
at all. All these Orthodox churches are one church. The ethnic
designation refers to what is called the parish's "jurisdiction"
and identifies which bishops hold authority there. There are
about 6 million Orthodox in North America and 250 million
in the world, making Orthodoxy the second-largest Christian
communion.
The
astonishing thing about this ethnic multiplicity is its theological
and moral unity. Orthodox throughout the world hold unanimously
to the fundamental Christian doctrines taught by the Apostles
and handed down by their successors, the bishops, throughout
the centuries. One could attribute this unity to historical
accident. We would attribute it to the Holy Spirit.
Why
then the multiplicity of ethnic churches? These national designations
obviously represent geographic realities. Since North America
is also a geographic unity, one day we will likewise have
a unified national church – an American Orthodox Church.
This was the original plan, but due to a number of complicated
historical factors, it didn't happen that way. Instead, each
ethnic group of Orthodox immigrating to this country developed
its own church structure. This multiplication of Orthodox
jurisdictions is a temporary aberration and much prayer and
planning is going into breaking through those unnecessary
walls.
Currently
the largest American jurisdictions are the Greek Orthodox
Archdiocese, The Orthodox Church in America (Russian roots),
and the Antiochian Archdiocese (Arabic roots). The liturgy
is substantially the same in all, though there may be variation
in language used and type of music.
I
wish it could be said that every local parish eagerly welcomes
newcomers, but some are still so close to their immigrant
experience that they are mystified as to why outsiders would
be interested. Visiting several Orthodox parishes will help
you learn where you're most comfortable. You will probably
be looking for one that uses plenty of English in its services.
Many parishes with high proportions of converts will have
services entirely in English.
Orthodoxy
seems startlingly different at first, but as the weeks go
by it gets to be less so. It will begin to feel more and more
like home, and will gradually draw you into your true home,
the Kingdom of God. I hope that your first visit to an Orthodox
church will be enjoyable, and that it won't be your last.
(reprinted
by permission)
An edited version of the following is available as a
brochure from Conciliar Press (800) 967-7377
© Frederica Mathewes-Green
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