#orthodox service

[dogsnoptics]

I’m gonna dump my old art on here. Cuz why not. most of these were gifts for friends and family

[doriscahill]

Week 11: A Trip to Church

On this Sunday and upon my request, my host mother and I were  driven  by car  to Orthodox service. Its my second day at my new host home and church is important for me, even if not Catholic.

Our car has no front bumper. Many cars in Georgia have no front or back bumper. Instead, they seem riddled with ailments: cracked windshields, rust, missing door handles and drivers’ wheel can resides on either side; a array of broken mechanisms. Intersections with no lights for  cross walks and open storm drains common threaten those on foot not only car. 

The road to today’s service is well traveled, quiet modern and well paved, lined with electric polls. We ride about 4 miles from the City Center where rocky hills hug the edge of trains tracks not used. We were dropped-off at the bottom of a cliff along side a set of towering stairs. Others pull-up along the road side in like-kind manner. No parking lot, just a sandy shoulder adjacent to a bus stand with a subsistence farm below it. Many fruit trees bearing a bounty of tiny pears and cherries.

Firmly holding my host mothers arm, we ascend to the top. She catches her breath and stops frequently. I contemplate how lucky it is these steps are new and what it may have been like to make this steep trek only a short time ago. My host son served the church as a young boy, he must have climbed those ancient steps again and again. 

  I peer down and discreetly take a few pictures. Most locals are routinely on there cell phones, it goes unnoticed.  Georgians love cell phones, coverage is close to 98% and towers frequent many hilltops. On my decent 3 hours later, all have fully realized I am American and insist they photo-op me. I will post those pictures should they materialize on Facebook, which most Georgians love too. 

Ancient stones and mortar of many varieties confine the grounds and the church. The graveled yard includes sacred tombstones carved in iconic symbols; with benches tucked  in-between for sitting. A pipe protrudes from the ground where water is gathered and dishes cleaned. I am offered water, but must decline, the water supply is not reliably potable. 

These pictures show the Church entrance. Notice the mixed religious motifs, the patch work of architecture from centuries of use and repair.   All positioned next to and  above the charred doorway and iron collection box.  

Nun dressed in black enters and loving father observes his son.

After service a brightly crafted table is readied for wine, tea and treats. The small house is a gift shop to purchase thin wicked honey colored candles, Orthodox Crosses, pray books and laminated pictorials of Sacred Saints with the largest items for wealthy patrons.  My host gifts a small wooden cross to me, she helps me tie a not in the waxed string, with my matches (yes its wise to carry matches) we burn off the excess string and seal the knot. 

All these items sold at the shop are integral to service. During worship participants stand. Lit prayer candles are held and offered to the Sacred Saints and Christ. Precision bowing occurs throughout the service and constant sign of the cross can be seen under dim candle light. Painful  kneeling on cement floors takes place, while melodic choir sings praise to God. I am offered a bench seat, where only the eldest of women sit. I sit for a short while, then choose standing. High pitched voices echo from acoustically perfect thick but smoothly plastered walls. Sweet brandied wine and bread is blessed for distribution much like the Catholic communion. Service ends with an individual blessing; men line up first, then women. 

Below is a festive table being readied for after service treats and teas, along side tomb stones of ancestors.

Such a loving culture, so much love. Thanks for listening and joining me on my journey! Doe