We use frankincense. That’s the short answer. But there’s more to it than that.
Most Orthodox parishes burn either pure frankincense resin or what’s called “Athonite-style” incense, which is frankincense mixed with other resins, aromatic woods, and fragrant oils. Both types get placed on hot charcoal in a censer, where they smolder and release that distinctive smell you notice the moment you walk into an Orthodox church.
Pure frankincense comes from the Boswellia tree, the same resin the Magi brought to Christ. It’s been used in worship for thousands of years, first in the Temple, then in Christian churches. When you burn it, the smell is clean and resinous, slightly citrus, unmistakable. Some parishes use nothing but pure frankincense tears dropped straight onto the charcoal.
But many Orthodox churches use Athonite-style blends, named after Mount Athos in Greece where monks have been making incense for centuries. These blends start with frankincense and add other resins like myrrh, labdanum, or benzoin, along with cedar, fir needle, or other aromatic woods. The monks at Holy Cross Monastery in West Virginia make their own Athonite incense as part of their daily work. Each monastery or supplier has its own recipe, so the incense at one parish might smell slightly different from another, but the base is always frankincense.
The practical setup is simple. You light a charcoal disc, let it get hot, then drop incense grains or resin tears onto it. The heat releases the fragrance without burning it to ash. The priest or altar server swings the censer during services, incensing the altar, the icons, the Gospel book, the clergy, and the people. If you’ve been to Vespers or Divine Liturgy at St. Michael, you’ve seen this. The smoke rises, the smell fills the church, and everyone gets a lungful of it whether they want to or not. (If you work at the refinery, you’re probably used to strong smells by now.)
Why frankincense specifically? Because Scripture tells us to. The Psalms say, “Let my prayer be counted as incense before you.” The Book of Exodus gives detailed instructions for the incense used in the Tabernacle. Revelation describes the prayers of the saints rising like incense before God’s throne. And those Magi didn’t bring frankincense to the Christ child by accident. It was a gift fit for God, used in worship, and we’ve kept using it ever since.
The Church Fathers interpreted temple incense as a type of Christian prayer. When we incense the church, we’re doing several things at once. We’re sanctifying the space. We’re showing reverence to the holy things and people being incensed. We’re making visible what’s invisible, our prayers ascending to God. And we’re acknowledging that angels are present in our worship, just as they are in heaven. The smell reminds us we’re not just in a building in Beaumont. We’re standing at the threshold of heaven.
Some people walk into an Orthodox church for the first time and love the smell immediately. Others find it overwhelming. That’s fine. You’ll get used to it. After a few weeks, you won’t even notice it consciously, but your body will know you’re in church the moment the smell hits you. It becomes part of how you pray.
If you want to use incense at home for your prayer corner, you can buy the same frankincense or Athonite blends parishes use. You’ll need charcoal discs and a heat-safe dish or small censer. Light the charcoal outside or near a window because it produces carbon monoxide as it ignites. Once it’s glowing, bring it inside, set it in your censer, and add a few grains of incense. Don’t overdo it. A little goes a long way, and your smoke detector won’t appreciate enthusiasm.
The smell of frankincense connects us to the Magi, to the Temple, to centuries of Christians who prayed this way before us. It’s one more way the faith engages all our senses, not just our minds. We’re not Gnostics. We believe the physical world matters, that material things can bear grace, that bread becomes Body and wine becomes Blood and incense carries prayer. When you smell frankincense at St. Michael, you’re smelling the same thing Christians have burned in worship since the beginning. That’s worth something.
