Comparison of Church and Synagogue Services
The United Methodist Church in Spokane, Washington was lively on a typical Sunday morning. The congregation was made up mostly of middle aged families and elderly people. The architecture of the church, was modern, but still highly recognizable as United Methodist, as the cross and the flame were emblazoned at the entrance in iron work. There was a vestibule for coat hanging where I was greeted by an older man with a hand shake, and motioned to proceed to a line into the sanctuary. The sanctuary had high windows on the right side that were stained blue and green, some with the fish sign for Jesus cast in metal and molded inside the glass work. I was given a guide, John, to help me to better understand the service. When I mentioned to John how beautiful the stained glass was, he told me it had a lot of symbolic meaning. He said the blue and green represented the world as an ocean of souls waiting to be touched by the divine healing spirit, symbolized by the fish.
We took our seats in the second pew back, as organ music played in the background. The sanctuary was well lit by natural light pouring in from the overhead skylights. Adorning the sanctuary were torch like lights on the walls, and banners proclaiming a love of the Lord or reciting Bible verses. The alter was the main focal point of the room. It was covered in what appeared to be red velvet, a large bouquet of fresh flowers placed in the center behind an open Bible. The front area was separated from the rest of the sanctuary with a low railing, and there were two pulpits and one waist high piece of stone with a lid. John told me the piece of stone was the Methodist version of the baptismal fountain. The water inside was holy and only the preacher was allowed to lift the lid. As the service began, two adolescent children adorned all in white walked in sync to the front of the sanctuary to light two candelabras located behind the alter. My guide said the candles signified the ever lasting flame of Christ. The service was underway after the candle lighting, as the preacher took to his pulpit. The service was upbeat, the congregation appeared to be relaxed, yet enthralled all at once. There was a feeling of steadfast sureness among the people that even this atheist was temporarily caught up in the grace of God.
The content of the service was not at all what I was expecting. Having only known of Christianity what was prevalent in the liberal media, I was expecting a fiery reverend preaching of hell fire and damnation with a side of bigotry. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the people around me were only there for a love of their creator, and to worship him. There was no political agenda, and no ambiance of hatred. The service ended and we filed into a large room with antlers mounted on the walls and pictures of men holding large fish. I sat down with my guide to discuss what his faith meant to him over a cup of coffee.
John was very candid with me about the church. I asked him specific questions about the visual nature of his faith, something he too had always been aware of and was able to put into words eloquently. He said the skylights in the sanctuary were there to allow God to figuratively shine in. By using sunlight, instead of artificial lighting, the congregation was able to see God’s amazing work that they take for granted every day on a different scale. He said the railing signified someone’s entrance into a holier place. The colour of the cloth on the alter even had significance. He said red, blue and purple were alternated weekly, and they were used because they are the colours of royalty, which God deserves no less than. When I asked him why he had chosen this particular church out of the many in Spokane, he told me to look around. He could feel the presence of God in the sanctuary, and he could also feel the presence of community in the reception hall after services every Sunday. He said the antlers on the wall were from fellow members of the congregation, and the pictures of people with large fish were the same. He loved how he could be a member of a community that celebrated God so enthusiastically and celebrated each other’s accomplishments so readily. I asked him if his faith would bare the same significance in a bare building with no decoration. His answer surprised me very much. He said, “I would still love and worship God, but the richness of that worship would be exponentially decreased in a bare building.”
Next I attended services at a conservative synagogue in Spokane. Services were held in the evening. It was dusk when I arrived, which already cast a more somber mood over this service. The synagogue resembled a fort, in that it was difficult to even know it was a synagogue unless you were actually looking for it. The walls were plain concrete, with windows like a military building. As I entered the small vestibule I was immediately noticed by the greeter as a stranger. I chatted with him for a few minutes to let him know I had called ahead, and my motives for being there were just to observe and deeper appreciate his tradition. He was very hesitant to let me in as he waved me to the line to enter the sanctuary. As I entered the sanctuary the differences between the visual traditions was extremely apparent. The sanctuary was dimly lit with artificial lighting, and the sanctuary was sparsely decorated, with only a couple of small pictures and a plain alter in the front that held the scrolls. The all together ambiance of the room was very different as well. When I took my seat in the back, people discretely shuffled away from me. There was a very somber feeling in the room, with very few smiles and barely even a whisper of human sound. There was some piano music playing in the background. The service began and was mostly in Hebrew. The congregation remained silent through the entire service, and I felt very conspicuous as an outsider.
After the service, I was clearly not invited to the reception, but I did find a girl my age named Amanda who was willing to answer a few questions. When I asked about the dimness and the somber ambiance, she said to me that the Jewish people may appear to be cold and even to mourn their faith, but that was not the case. They preferred the dimly lit room and the somberness to be respectful of God, and to place all of their attention in his worship. They didn’t need frills, or ornate decorations. They felt their time better spent in the actual study of scripture and the actually worshipping of God. I chatted with Amanda a bit longer and finally got up the courage to ask the one question that had been plaguing me. I asked her why I felt so ostracized during the service. She said to me that it’s not easy to be Jewish in Spokane. They had been having a lot of problems with harassment since they built the synagogue in the late sixties, and everyone was skeptical of any outsider. Having grown up in the Spokane area, this made perfect sense to me. The region is known for it’s far right extremists and hate groups. I asked her what the community of this synagogue was like. She said they were very close knit, pious and very nice people to worship with. She said they generally stuck together both in and out of synagogue. They celebrated each others accomplishments, and helped each other as much as possible in their times of need. They, like the Methodist community, were very close personally and spiritually.
I found myself very surprised by both services I attended. They were both very diverse with ideas and practices. I found that the Jewish community I visited preferred to celebrate their faith modestly and seriously, while the Christian community preferred to be more upbeat and lavish with symbolism. They both celebrated each other as a community, though also in different way. They both very much needed the ambiance and communities they had created to fully express their religion in the ways each felt was most appropriate. I found myself surprisingly feeling more welcome in the church than the synagogue, but the surprise was a bit na�¯ve of me. I had been away from Spokane so long I had forgotten about the political tensions facing the members of the community. However, I do feel that each tradition was equally beautiful in its own ways. I could appreciate the modesty of Jewish service, an the comparative lavishness of the Christian service, because both ideas ultimately met at the same goal: To worship and honour their God in the best, and most comfortable way to each community.
