The Divine Liturgy is the central worship service of the Orthodox Church, where we celebrate the Eucharist and receive Christ’s Body and Blood. It’s what most Christians would call “the Sunday service,” but it’s not a worship service in the way that phrase usually means in Southeast Texas. It’s something older and stranger than that.
When you walk into St. Michael’s on a Sunday morning, you’re walking into the same worship that Christians have been doing since the apostles. Not something like it. The same thing. The prayers are ancient, the structure is ancient, and what happens at the altar is what Jesus commanded at the Last Supper: “Do this in remembrance of Me.” We take that literally.
What Actually Happens
The service lasts about an hour and a half. You’ll stand for most of it, though don’t worry if you need to sit. The priest and deacon move in processions, carrying the Gospel book and later the bread and wine. There’s chanting, no instruments. Incense. Icons everywhere you look. People crossing themselves at specific moments. If you grew up Baptist or at one of the big non-denominational churches around here, it’ll feel completely foreign at first.
The Liturgy has two main parts. The first part, the Liturgy of the Catechumens, includes Scripture readings, a homily, and prayers. In the early Church, this is where people preparing for baptism would leave. They weren’t yet ready for what came next. The second part, the Liturgy of the Faithful, is where we celebrate the Eucharist itself. The priest prays the Eucharistic prayer, calling down the Holy Spirit to transform the bread and wine into Christ’s Body and Blood. Then we commune.
This Isn’t Symbolic
Here’s where we differ most sharply from Protestant churches. When we say the bread and wine become Christ’s Body and Blood, we mean it. Not spiritually present. Not symbolically there. Actually there. The Orthodox Church has always taught the Real Presence without trying to explain exactly how it happens. We don’t use the Catholic term “transubstantiation” because we don’t need a philosophical system to explain a Mystery. The Holy Spirit does what the Holy Spirit does. The bread looks like bread, tastes like bread, but it’s Christ.
Fr. Alexander Schmemann wrote a whole book about this called For the Life of the World. He said the Liturgy isn’t something we do to remember Jesus. It’s us entering into the Kingdom of God, which is already here but not yet fully revealed. Heaven and earth meet at the altar. The saints are there with us. The angels are there. Christ is there, not as a memory but as a living presence.
Why Every Sunday?
If you’re used to communion once a month or once a quarter, the idea of celebrating the Eucharist every single Sunday (and on feast days too) might seem like overkill. But for us, it’s the opposite. The Eucharist is the heartbeat of the Church. Everything else leads to it or flows from it. We don’t gather to hear a good sermon and sing some songs. We gather to offer the Eucharist and receive Christ. The sermon matters, the prayers matter, but they’re all part of this one great act of worship.
This is also why we’re careful about who receives communion. Only baptized and chrismated Orthodox Christians in good standing can commune, and even then, we prepare through confession and fasting. It’s not about being exclusive for the sake of it. It’s about recognizing what’s actually happening. When St. Paul warned the Corinthians about receiving communion unworthily, he wasn’t being dramatic. This is serious.
If you’re visiting or inquiring, you won’t commune. That’s okay. You’re still welcome. Stay for the whole service, and at the end, you’ll receive blessed bread called antidoron. It’s not the Eucharist, but it’s a sign of fellowship.
What to Expect Your First Time
Show up a little early if you can. Dress modestly. You’ll probably feel lost for a while, and that’s normal. Get a service book from the narthex and try to follow along, but don’t stress if you can’t keep up. Let the words and the music and the incense wash over you. Stand when others stand, sit if you need to. Don’t worry about when to cross yourself or what to do with your hands.
The priest will face the altar for much of the service, not the congregation. That’s not him turning his back on you. It’s all of us together facing east, facing God. You’re not an audience. You’re part of what’s happening, even if you don’t understand it yet.
People often ask if it’s okay to leave early. Technically yes, but try to stay for the whole thing at least once. The Liturgy builds. It moves from preparation to offering to communion to thanksgiving. Leaving halfway through is like walking out of a meal after the salad course.
Why It Matters
The Divine Liturgy isn’t one option among many for how to worship God. For us, it’s the worship of the Church, given to us by the apostles, preserved through the centuries, celebrated by millions of Orthodox Christians around the world every Sunday in dozens of languages. When we gather at St. Michael’s, we’re joining that great chorus. We’re doing what the Church has always done.
And we’re being changed by it. The goal isn’t to have a nice experience or get a spiritual boost for the week. The goal is theosis, union with God. Every time we receive the Eucharist, we’re being transformed into the likeness of Christ. Slowly, over years, we become what we receive. That’s what it means to be saved. Not a one-time decision, but a lifelong process of becoming fully human, fully alive in God.
Come see for yourself. Sunday mornings at 10:00. You won’t understand everything the first time. Nobody does. But you’ll know you’ve encountered something ancient, something real, something worth returning to.
