My First Vespers Service

At 6 pm I walked into my first ever Orthodox Church in Bozeman, Montana with my friends Stewart and Brad. All three of us were experiencing our first Vespers service. I went in with minimal expectations and an open mind. I heard there was going to be chanting, and that Vespers means prayer in some language. The location was in an entirely different area even though it was only a 15 minute drive, it was tucked away off of Love Lane which I had not ventured on many times. The church itself was tiny, but the architecture was intentional, and I, above all else, was curious. 

I walked into the dim building lit by candles whose light adorned beautiful artwork. I recognized them as icons and have been told that they are basically idol worship by the Western church. But, I kept my mouth shut, with my ears and eyes wide open. There were no more than 15 people in there, all standing. My friends and I slipped into the crowd, not unnoticed. There was a woman reading very quickly, and I could only catch fragments. Except it wasn’t reading that she was doing, it was somewhere between speaking and singing. I would learn she was a canter, and I would also learn to follow along with what she was reading. 

This went on for 10 minutes straight and I let my eyes close and my mind rest, just focusing on the present moment. Then out of nowhere I heard the chior’s heavenly voices all sing in unison with the Church. “Lord, have mercy”. My heart started skipping around my chest because of the beauty that was unfolding. I began to look around, the priest was backwards. At least to me he was backwards, because he was not facing us. He was clearly leading though. I had so many questions at this point, yet I maintained my ability to remain present and hold them for later. I looked to my right and recognized an old acquaintance of mine who is now my friend, Andrew. I was so surprised to see him…it was good to see a familiar face in the unfamiliar territory I had ventured into. I set my attention back on the service. The priest had a jingly thing in his hand and made his way towards us, rocking it back and forth. Incense poured out and filled the room. The scent made its way into my lungs and meshed together the physical and the spiritual. I had never experienced a smell like that in a Church until that moment. I breathed deeper still, and exhaled some of my tension. The singing and prayer continued. 

Eventually, the priest turned around and we all sat down criss-cross applesauce like five year olds. We learned about an early mystical healing that was recorded and taught for what seemed to be encouragement. At the end the priest said, “Christ is in our midst” and the whole church simultaneously replied a resounding, “He is and ever shall be”. Everyone crossed themselves which I thought was only a weird Catholic thing and then we stood up. The priest, then introduced himself as Father David and smiled and was cracking some jokes, and an irresistible love was shining very brightly that I couldn’t help but notice.

We were dismissed, and I stood to the side, as one by one as the orthodox brothers and sisters crossed themselves, kissed the icons, and received some sort of blessing from Father David that involved kissing the cross he held, and then his hand. All of this was so foreign and I was confused, but interested. Afterwards, I was talking to Andrew who lit up while I asked him question after question. As we all walked out he looked at me and said, “If you think that’s something, come to Divine Liturgy on Sunday. It’s like that times 10.”