Храм Христа Спасителя

I entered the vast hall and a feeling of awe and reverence suddenly washed over me. The expanse of the enormous dome towered over me. Murals and pictures of Christ and various saints surrounded me. Slowly, I approached a pedestal with several lit candles situated in front of an icon of Christ. I gazed up at the icon, painted in a style so familiar to me after all the months I've spent in Eastern Europe. The smell of melting wax followed me as I wandered around that hall of worship, silently observing my brothers and sisters engaged in communication with God. I almost felt to be an intruder, as if I'd stumbled into something sacred and private as they lit and placed candles in front of their icons, as they bowed and crossed themselves, as they stood in reverence. I almost felt the need to apologize to them for being there, and yet I was deeply honored that they let me, in my own way, take part in their worship.

I wandered downstairs, silently hoping that I was allowed to do so. This was by far the largest Orthodox church I had ever been in, and my first time without a member of that church leading me. But as I stepped out of the stone spiral staircase and into another hall of worship, sounds of a choir singing brought sudden peace to my heart. The reverberations of these sacred strains carried through the stone halls, and I thought to myself that I had rarely heard anything to compare in beauty with that music. I walked further in, and observed their sacrament service, the line of worshipers approaching their priest to partake of the emblems of Christ's sacrifice. I held back for a while, standing behind the worshipers, feeling the depth of their devotion to the God I love. After a few minutes, I left the main hall and retired to a back passageway with benches. I'm not sure how long I sat on one of those benches, listening to the service and contemplating life, religion, the human soul. And Russia. The rich sounds of the choirs harmonies washed over my soul, imparting peace and healing.

And in that moment, I felt I was beginning to understand what it means to be Russian.

And I understood better what it means to be me. And what it is to be closer to God.

As I left that sacred place, where thousands before me have worshiped, I felt as if I were somewhere above earth. The Cathedral of Christ the Savior has become one of my favorite places in Moscow. Because of the history of that church. Because of the richness of the traditions that fill that building. Because of what you can feel there. Because of the witness it bears to the transcendent nature of the human spirit. Because it was built to my Savior, Whom I love with all my heart.