The time frame of my Russian
study abroad has given me glimpses into all major religions of the country. On
different occasions I have seen roads closed down for thousands of Muslims to
lay down their prayer rugs around the central mosque, parades on Lermontov
Avenue for the Jewish holidays of Sukkot and Yom Kippur, and, most impressive,
the Orthodox parade down Niefsky Prospekt.
Religion has played a central role in Russia’s development. It was the first identity trait that unified the Slavic people of the ninth century into Rus. Arguments in favor of Russian military expansion and trade were often guided or bolstered by religious claims. The leader of Russia was a Czar, a Slavic version of Caesar that serves as a direct line to God for his people. The first universities of Peter the Great were set up under the auspices of traveling preachers from Ukraine and Poland. This explains why Religion permeates many aspects of Russian life: from the inception of Russian identity, to commonplace social behavior, particularly between young men and women.
This constant underlying connection to divinity was interrupted by the advent of the USSR. The Soviet Union and its inhabitants forcefully espoused atheism and criticized religion as one of the roots of ignorance. Many churches were destroyed to leave space for communist monuments and military institutions. During the twentieth century, Russia turned away from ideas of divinity and resorted to human ingenuity, force, and state-sponsored collective strength to move forward industrialization and the population of its frigid desolate landscapes. When I visited Murmansk it was strange to see vast amounts of industrial engineering that outdated a 15-year old church.
Under Putin’s guidelines, the country is making a decided shift towards religion as a powerful Russian identifier. Putin is attempting to wipe Russia’s international identity clean of communism and associate it instead with Russian Orthodoxy first and foremost. This explains why much of the tourist activity seen in Russia revolves around its recently renovated religious institutions. Ascribing to Russian Orthodoxy provides Russia with another point upon which to pivot and contrast Catholic and Protestant Western worlds.
The mix of industrialization and religious aesthetics was most prominent in Moscow. The imposing organic city intimidates passersby with massive granite block buildings and distracts visitors and pilgrims with colorful light reflecting domes like on St. Basil’s Cathedral. Saint Petersburg, on the other hand, showcases European imperial traits with its low-rise building limits and blocks peppered with churches.
I had the opportunity to attend an Orthodox service. Well, part of it… they are very long. The service can stretch up to 4 hours, and most people stand the entire time. It is very strict and ceremonial, requiring celebrant participation. I went to the Church of Transfiguration (Спа́со-Преображе́нскийсобо́р/Spaso-Preobrazhensky). The processions were very solemn, and there was no chatting on the sidelines. The vaulted rooms smelled of incense and wax. The extent of gilding on the altars, walls, roofs, and glass windows severely contrasted the dark and gray mournful garments of the people. The chants were sung by a trained choir, but at times one person would get carried away and beautifully sing a solo.
I also enjoyed Jewish services while in Russia. It was interesting to attend a Jewish Orthodox service for Yom Kippur, given that I come from a liberal background. The building itself was much more grand and ornate than I am used to. It makes sense because it is the Grand Choral Synagogue of St. Petersburg. The service itself was very casual, with people running around, talking, and laughing. Of course men and women were separated by level. The women were seated above on a three-sided balcony, which was supported by 20 intricate marble columns. Engravings along the wall and ceiling interior were sober, but the columns were lined with flowers, stars, and leaves. After the service, the lobby was bustling with impatiently hungry Jews. I joined a group of 25 young professionals and university students and broke the fast at a cozy Jewish family-run restaurant called Gold Café. We sat at one long wooden table and talked for hours. They told me that much of the post-Soviet Nazi movements had been culled, and anti-Semitism was virtually non-existent. I was surprised by the number of overtly religiously dressed Jews that walked the streets of the city, even long before and after the holiday ended.
Though my host family is not religious, they are in the minority, and I have been able to experience aspects of religious life in Russia through various lenses. I was able to observe firsthand how Christianity, and specifically Russian Orthodoxy, holds sway over many social norms and institutionalized services. I am not complaining; I get to go to school in a bright white and baby blue cathedral every day.
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