The Ukrainian Orthodox Liturgy at the Refectory Church of St. John the Theologian

This morning I spent one of the most fascinating and instructive hours of my entire stay in Ukraine. I was the guest of my "guide, interpreter and handler," Olga Kupriyevych, in attending a Ukrainian Orthdox liturgy (or "mass," as it would be referred to in western churches) in the Refectory chapel in the Church of St. John the Theologian, which church is on the grounds of the marvelous monastery known as St. Michael's of the Golden Domes. I say that I attended "a Ukrainian Orthdox Mass" very deliberately, because the supervision of St. Michael's falls under the Patriarchy of Kyiv, unlike Pechersk Lavra and some 6,000 other Orthdox churches in Ukraine, which fall under the Moscow patriarchy. In this I perceive one of the subtle and frequently hidden tensions that exist in this society--namely this, that the dominance of the Ukrainian national spirit has been and in many instances continues to be dominated by Russia. This was true under the Tsars. It was definitely true under the Soviet regime, and it continues today in many things commercial, linguistic and religious. What I witnessed the other day in the Refectory at Pechersk Lavra was an Orthodox mass under the ultimate liturgy and direction of the Patriarch at Moscow. What I saw today was a mass under the priesthood claiming authority and direction under the Ukrainian Patriarch. It may seem a subtle difference to many, but I have come to believe that it is far from insignificant.

St. Michael's has a unique place in all of this, as it is the primary training ground for young Ukrainian Orthodox Priests. I was struck by the vast numbers of youthful, vigorous, joyful young men who are in this place, all dressed in the black shoe-length cassock of the seminarian. Many still in their teens, most in their early twenties, these young men are the future vigor and hope of the remarkable Ukrainian Orthodox Church. The Mass which I witnessed today was presented in large part by these young men.

The Refectory chapel is a small building immediately adjacent to the great central cathedral in the midst of the walls of the monastery. (I didn't get a good picture of it today, but in the picture below, you can just see it off the right of the square, beyond the ornate blue edifice capped by the famous golden domes. At the end of this post is a picture of the Refectory which I took on Thursday, when it was overcast.) The Refectory is the place where the monks and priests traditionally took their meals, and the services there are as much for them as they are for worshippers joining in from outside. Inside the Refectory one finds himself in a fairly compact chamber, perhaps forty feet wide by sixty feet long, with a high vaulted ceiling lined with niches containing intricately carved icons as well as the richly painted realistic murals which are found throughout the Churches I have seen in Kyiv (both in Russian- and Ukrainian-Orthodox Churches). At the head of the room is a permanent choir platform and low screen on the right, a table or altar of bread and wine on the left, a central altar facing an arched opening, through which can be seen the most sacred priestly precincts. In the main room are also four golden colored round platforms, each with many dozens of small candle holders. In these the long golden tapers brought by the worshippers are burning brightly. The worshippers will each bring or purchase on site one or more candles which they light immediately upon entering. The devout may also, I noted today, prepare small lists of names which the priests will read, or more properly "sing" during the services. The lists are of two kinds--lists with a red printing are for living persons, while lists with a blueish-purple color are for the dead. These lists, I understand, are maintained in the priestly prayers for a period of forty days.

Today there was a beautiful choir composed of about twelve young priests, dressed in black, who stood with their chorister in the choir. Again, as with the Russian Orthodox Mass I observed on Thursday at Pechersk Lavra, there is a glorious counterpoint between the recitative-like singing of the solitary priest, and then the multi-voiced, harmonized chorus by the choir. Also, throughout the service, the deep baritone of the priest behind the screen can be heard. He is not in black, but is dressed in a long white robe, running all the way from his shoulders to the floor, fringed at the hem and the cuffs in gold. He wears over this long white robe a curious gold colored front piece, which has a hole for his head and flows down his front and back to about his knees. This is tied with a textile belt of gold color, and he has a flowing robe or cape over his shoulders and running to the floor. His head is uncovered during the service. I was most intrigued that at key points in the service, this priest in the white robe covered with the golden cape, would enter into the room of the devout worshippers, swinging a golden senser, with filled with burning incense, and to this censer were attached what appeared to me to be what we would call sleigh bells. It was a curious thing to hear these beautiful small bells ringing, as the priest came into the room, a thrilling thing, really, when juxtaposed against the glorious harmonic singing of the priests. I am attempting now to describe the indescribable. Sacramental bread and wine was adminstered to both priests and the public worshippers. I also noted that during the singing of the mass, several men and women approached an altar on the side, where they kissed a book and a cross, and then with head bowed had a priest place a gold and white colored cloth over their heads and incline their heads together through this covering. I was later told that this was a confession, made through the cloth.

One of the hallmarks of what I witnessed was the amazing demeanor of the priests. It was not forbidding, it was not distant. It was joyful, it was radiant, it was connected to the people. This, above all, when a priest probably in his teens, during the service, placed a movable lecturn in the archway leading to the priestly precincts, and a young priest in his twenties (dressed in white and gold) stood at the lectern and delivered an extemporaneous sermon in Ukrainian. His subject was the account of Jesus passing through the throng of people, when a woman in need of healing surrepticiously touched the hem of his garment. Jesus turned to his disciples and said, "Who touched me, for I have felt virtue pass from me." This was beautifully and plainly told, and the priest's own interpretation given to the story. This was very impressive to me. Later, the chief priest (the one who swung the golden censor) remained in the room with the worshippers after all was over, visiting with animated conversation, and penetrating and joyful glances, to a young couple, to an old woman, then as I stood near the back door, passed by me with a mother and young son into a private office, all the while exuding a joy in his service that belied many preconceptions I might have had about the distance and the barriers placed between the priests and the people in other ancient religious traditions.

All in all, this was the most interesting experience I have yet had in this fascinating, complex and beautiful land.