Sunday Service

I never went to church when I was growing up for obvious reasons, so I was sincerely baffled why people sacrificed their Sunday mornings to trudge up to Sunday service. It seemed like the most mystifying behavior imaginable. Instead of sleeping in and then lounging around in pajamas they would get dressed and go hang out with a bunch of other sleepy folks.

The first time I went to an Orthodox service last spring, I was even more perplexed. The service was long, very repetitive, and utterly unentertaining. And you couldn’t even leave after it was finally over because people wanted to socialize. Cheery religious people beaming at me on a Sunday morning. I thought I’d never go back.

By the end of next week, though, I was counting hours until I could go back. Now I realize that I’d been robbed. I could have been going for decades! Now I totally get why people go. I could pay tons of money to spend the morning at a spa and I’d still not achieve the same kind of peacefulness that I get from church.

The funny thing is that I barely get to hear 10% of the service because Klara insists on going, too, and I end up being on intense childcare duty, which is anything but restful. But the service still works! Even 10% is better than nothing.

I hate the Soviet Union.

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