My trip to Austin

For the Sunday of Orthodoxy I was at a conference in downtown Austin. This afforded me the opportunity to visit St. Elias Orthodox Church over the weekend. The website claims that the congregation is made up of believers of all ethnicities and this is certainly true to anyone who visits as the pews were filled with Slavs, Lebanese, Ethiopians, and more than a few converts.

After arriving in town I used the shaky hotel wireless to find out how close St. Elias was to the hotel. Google Maps assured me it was a little under a mile. I popped the hotel card into my pocket, picked up my cellphone, went down the elevator and out the door, then looked up and around to see which way was South. If you need an ATM or a pub, you will never have to ask where one can be found - every 10 feet another one is available. I needed neither so made good time to the parish.

The Saturday service was billed as Vespers, but was in fact Vigil. The priest prefaced the service by informing those in attendance that 1) the service is considerably longer 2) the hymnology is unquestionably beautiful 3) if you picked up a Vespers book in the narthex to go back and get the more robust spiral-bound Vigil book. No one was affronted by the change so the service started with a goodly number standing hither and thither all about the nave. One priest served in the altar while the other, accompanied by two women, served as the choir.  Sadly, I was unable to stay for the entire service, but I made a mental note of the Liturgy time for the next day and walked back to the hotel.

On Sunday I walked in two minutes before the Divine Liturgy started a tad overdressed as I had donned winter attire (colloquially known as a sweater)  a day too early. It was a humid day in the 70s and I was dressed for Monday and the rest of the week in which it snowed more than it had in over 20 years. If you have ever been a bit sweaty of brow and out of sorts in a new church, you know that air conditioning is a blessed thing. St. Elias - 80 years old - has it. Being on time in any Eastern Christian parish I have ever visited assures you an open place to stand. I am not one for standing in the back, so went as far forward as decorum would allow.

I am not a rabid pew-o-clast, but will admit that pews inhibit some behaviors. My experience tells me that fewer people will go up to reverence the icons and place candles in a pew-ed parish. A metany will become a bow - you can spot the people that aren't fans of this reduction in physical worship by the fact that they camp out on the end of pews, hands firmly on its side, unwilling to slide over when new people arrive. They are the people who pop out to the center aisle when a metanoia is called for. You will also notice that, in parishes where the ethnic mix is strong, when 80 percent of the congregation is kneeling, the other 20 percent are standing. It was so here. But I digress...

The choir was on the second floor to the rear of the building. This is not at all uncommon, but what was lamentable for me was the complete lack of participation from the people. With the exception of two requisite communal prayers there was complete silence. Even the litanies were met with a shuffling of feet and a flipping of pew book pages. Conversely, I enjoy the tradition (found in some churches) of entrances that make a revolution around the people as they did there. Children are brought back into attention, scrambling to touch the priest's vestments, and bowing and crossing themselves as the clergy go by. My children, used to our previous parish, miss this event and look forward to visits to their grandfather's parish where they can huddle up in a ball ready to brush their hands against the priest's robes. It warms a parent's heart.

Following the liturgy, the Sunday of Orthodox procession was readied. Children were given icons, the altar servers were placed in order before the iconostasis and the procession began. The procession stopped and prayers were read at four places. Happy parents watched their children walk slowly around the people and took the occasional photo. The anathemas were eliminated so it was a short event, and after the children rejoined their parents the people filed out to go to coffee hour. I took a few parting shots, bought a book in the bookstore, partook of some of the fine coffee they serve there, and walked to meet coworkers a few blocks over for lunch.

I should also note that Fr. David Barr (pictured above to the left) is also the director of the St. Romanos Chanters Training Program, which is described on the website as, "The Saint Romanos Chanters Training Program is designed to teach the Byzantine tones in English as sung in the Antiochian Orthodox tradition.  The course is designed as a self-directed study in Byzantine music using western notation and uses printed music, theory and audio CDs." The program is very reasonably priced and there are workshops scheduled throughout the year (as reported earlier here).