The Old Church

This Sunday morning Kviteseid Old Church was decorated with fresh wild flowers in the small niches where statues once stood, bursting with colour against the thick white washed stone walls.

Interior, Kviteseid Gamle Kyrkje

            Seated near the front, I stared at the shades of off-white, some old Medieval drawings, the altar piece, and the peculiar statues way on top. I looked at the decorated ceiling in the choir, thinking of images of Russian interior decor.

            There were no original benches in the churches in the Middle Ages. People would stand; some older folks might have had a seat along the side. Still, it felt like I was placed in a long line of history. The benches had gates. A window with a grid made its impression on the whitish wall, beckoning with branches of trees making shadows in the wind outside.

            Kviteseid Gamle Kyrkje is the old parish church in my area and it dates back to 1100s or mid 1200s in the Middle Ages. The walls are thick, perhaps 30 inches thick. The windows are situated high up on the wall. It has a rectangular shape with an apsis.

Altar and decorated ceiling

This Sunday was the summer opening for the church and the nearby folk museum. Outside the June sun was warming up stones and fields, causing all living things to grow, and the warm beams soften the heart. Inside the church the air was still cool.

           

There is an all male choir in town, called Ågapet – a rather funny name for a serious a capella choir. When they sang a deep, stirring song with roots in the Orthodox tradition in the east, history was visiting the little church.  We have had well-known psalm composers in the parish in the Lutheran tradition in the local church’s history, but this went past the reformation years. The church was built in Catholic times, and may not have had any stirring deep Russian tunes, but – the room resounded the call.

            Unfortunately some people clapped.

            Please don’t clap for the music in a church service. It makes it sound like a performance, and it creates a clear distance from the soul connection to the moment. It disturbed me.

There was a visiting priest with a west-coast dialect. I don’t mind visiting priests, but I prefer our own. We are quite spoilt when it comes to sermons, so I sat listening with expectation – and all of a sudden it was over. Hm – what exactly was the point of this sermon? I thought. And he could not sing. This church room invites singing. Our own young priests sing wonderfully; and I am not prejudiced. I simply delight in it.

Many people were walking around the altar to give their offering. I liked seeing people walking round the altar. Perhaps they did not think that they had circumvented the symbol of the empty tomb. But they did. Perhaps they did not think about the other side, the next world, where our brothers and sisters in Christ will meet us.  But they will.

Kviteseid Gamle Kyrkje