How do we reconcile Christianity and paganism? By surrounding church life with superstition…

Folk beliefs probably exist on every topic. It seems, if you think about it, you can't take a single step without some kind of foreshadowing. For some reason, it's usually unfavorable. And this impression isn't far from reality.

It seems our pagan ancestors lived surrounded by countless beliefs, omens, and rituals. The world was perceived as filled with a significant number of malevolent forces and beings, and protection from them was a primary responsibility.

Even now, after a thousand years of Christianity and the era of official atheism, despite widespread secular education and a new rise of Christianity, superstitions persist, flourish, and show no signs of disappearing.

Why? Because humans, who have believed in magic for millennia, haven't disappeared. It's just hidden beneath a very thin layer of consciousness, occasionally breaking through. One such manifestation is superstition. Moreover, humans manage to surround with superstition that which should, it seems, completely reject it—superstition.

We're talking about Christianity. In this case, Orthodoxy.

Contrary to the very essence of the Abrahamic religions, which directly prohibit the practice of any magic, church life turns out to be filled with archaic pagan-magical elements.

Example?

Well, at least the idea that you can't place a candle with your left hand. Sure, the right hand is more convenient and confident for a right-handed person—but what if you can't use the left hand? Is it possible to hold a candle in your left hand? Logically, yes, otherwise you'd have to put the candle down somewhere if you want to cross yourself with your right hand.

Oh, and you can't pass a candle over your right shoulder. Absolutely! Apparently, because it's easier to receive a candle over your right shoulder with your left hand. Why can't you place a candle with your left hand?

And there are a whole host of superstitions associated with hands in general, with their relationship to left and right, and so on. For example, you can't cross your arms in church. Whether on your chest or behind your back. And don't cross your legs… However, the latter would more likely mean you're sitting. And that in itself is not welcome in an Orthodox church if you're healthy and able to stand.

As for crossed arms, it's not entirely clear what meaning is attached to it in this case. A purely superstitious meaning has emerged: “demons hover around such a person.” It's difficult to say now why exactly: perhaps this pose attracts “demons,” or perhaps the opposite was originally the case, with crossing fingers and limbs protecting against evil spirits. Over time, this meaning was forgotten, and only the memory of the connection between “demons and crossed arms” remained.

Psychologically, in body language, crossing your limbs is indeed associated with internal rejection; it's a defensive, “closed” gesture. Intuitively, many of us “read” this signal, expressing rejection. This is precisely why you shouldn't stand with your arms crossed and provoke potential resentment. And especially not, sitting with your legs crossed. It's not customary for a healthy person to sit in an Orthodox church. In an Orthodox church, you can't sit with your arms and legs crossed.

Speaking of candles, some are upset when church officials extinguish a candle that's half-burned out or ask someone to leave it lit, promising to do so later. True, not everyone will appreciate it if their candle doesn't light, but… Perhaps church officials do this with the priest's approval? After all, you lit a candle; it's your sacrifice to God, and logically, you've already made that sacrifice. Furthermore, even if someone else does something wrong, it's not your sin.

But it's probably not a good idea to take out other people's candles yourself. Do you really need to provoke a potential squabble?

Another common candle omen: a candle that smokes heavily and goes out is a bad sign. And it really is a bad sign. What good is a defective candle, made improperly?

Now, a few beliefs based on the basic principles of magic: infection and similarity.
Belief: Asking about time in a temple shortens your life.

For example, you can't ask the time in church. It seems folk memory has preserved an explanation here: asking the time in church shortens your life. Another interpretation is that the church is a reflection of heaven, and in heaven, time does not exist.

Which came first? I can only assume the latter. And the first is the “adjustment” of church rules to the usual “folk-magical” perception.

I didn't intend to discuss funeral superstitions here, but I'll give one example. There's a belief that if you have a choice, you should enter through the small gate, not the large church gate. The gate is where the dead are carried! The logic is obvious: by following the same path as the dead, you can become “magically infected,” hastening your death.

Finally, there's the old and persistent belief that one shouldn't wash after Communion, lest one “wash away the grace.” Furthermore, some people shouldn't even venerate icons after Communion: Communion is with bread and wine, so if you venerate them with your lips, you risk losing the grace.
There is a belief that after communion one should not wash oneself, so as not to “wash away the grace”

There are also modern beliefs or modern interpretations of old ones. Generally speaking, these are attempts to adapt ancient “magical” superstitions to modern concepts, sometimes imbuing them with a certain “scientific” sensibility. They are quite humorous, like completely serious discussions about the “energy” of a temple. Not figuratively, as is said, for example, about the energy of works of art.

No, we're talking about some real “force” filling the church and capable of exerting a physical influence. The most powerful energy, for example, is under the dome. And of course, there are icons with particularly powerful energies.

Do you know why women are “really” supposed to cover their heads in church? It turns out it's because of that same energy. It's too powerful. So powerful that a stronger man can withstand it, but a woman can't. So the head covering protects her…

In my opinion, such reasoning is a modern interpretation of what is called magical power in fairy tales. Or, more accurately, a rationalization of old beliefs. It's as if we are modern people, thinking “scientifically”: not magical power, but energy; not the evil eye or a curse, but an energetic breakdown of the aura. Incidentally, even the evil eye and curse can be removed. Going to a priest about this is useless; he'll just laugh.

But the people know what to do! The idea of “lighting a candle for good health” to protect against evil is very similar to a magical ritual.

For example, lighting a candle for the health of someone who wishes you harm. This could be in accordance with the commandment “love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you”; or perhaps to “mirror the curse,” returning it to the bad person. Oddly enough, an explanation for this can be found in the New Testament (if you're willing, you can find a “justification” for almost anything anywhere):

“If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. For in doing this you will heap burning coals of fire on his head.”

In any case, the idea of “lighting a candle for health” to protect against damage is very similar to a magical ritual.

And of course, the “classic”: walking around the apartment with a church candle and sprinkling holy water. Well, everyone knows that, it needs no comment!

Finally, there are two more church rites that have acquired magical qualities in popular belief. One of them is the wedding, after which, above all, it is highly undesirable to get divorced.
Another superstition: a wedding is stronger

Considering that divorce in Christianity is generally frowned upon, condemnation of divorce is already found in the New Testament, long before the advent of the wedding ceremony.

But the essence lies in the other side of the same superstition: that a married couple is stronger.

According to the Orthodox Church's interpretation, the significance of the ceremony is to receive the highest blessing for the union, primarily a spiritual union. In theory, such a marriage is indeed stronger—but it's assumed that the people getting married aren't just believers and Orthodox Christians, but churchgoers. Thus, the Orthodox family becomes a “small church.” Hence the consequence—a strong marriage…

And perhaps the most striking example of a “quasi-Christian superstition”: if a child is often sick, it would be good to baptize them as soon as possible. So that they don't get sick. And indeed, our ancestors did something similar. Although in the old days everyone was baptized in any case, they tried to baptize a weak child as soon as possible.

For now, everything is the same as it is now. Only the logical chains are different. Modern people perceive baptism as a kind of “prophylactic” for improving health.

Baptism is essentially preparation for possible death.

Our ancestors saw in baptism what it means in Christianity: the salvation of the soul. In their worldview, by quickly baptizing a weak child, we take care of his soul. In case of his death. He is weak, after all. Although, if anything happens, the sickly one will indeed stop being sick.

That is, baptism is, in essence, preparation for possible death.

I wonder if parents rushing to baptize their child think about this? What exactly are they really preparing their child for?

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