This is an interactive post about churches!

How many churches can you see in this shot of Old Town Tbilisi?

[hint: you might need to move your mouse over the picture if it's not loading properly...this is my first time composing everything in HTML and some stuff might be a little janky]
[p.s. In regards to the title, it's only "interactive" because of this sweet mouseover image I made, and that you have to click on "read more" to actually get to the post. So if you were hoping for some Angry Birds level of interaction, I'm sorry to disappoint!]

The answer is ten. Eleven if you count the church courtyard from where this picture was taken.

The unique pointed domes are a dead giveaway of an Orthodox church here.

Zoomed in 33%, you can see a little better where the churches are.

Even halfway up a hill, and way off in the distance, there are churches.

People aren't really kidding when they say that you are literally running into churches left and right in Tbilisi, which just goes to show you the level of influence that institution has in Georgia. It seems as though everything is ecclesiastically tied somehow. The constitution officially recognizes the Orthodox Church as the main religion, and even the alphabet was created specifically to make the spread of Christianity back in the fourth century easier.

Tbilisi at night from the Narikala fortress. On the right hand side you can see Sameba Cathedral lit up. 

Sameba is one of the largest churches in all of Orthodox christendom. It's an incredible sacred space, even if you're not remotely religious. While it was constructed to match the style of most other Georgian churches, Sameba's foundation was laid in the mid 90's. It is a symbol of Georgian national identity, which at the time helped solidify their independence from Russia.

The Metekhi church in Tbilisi. Even though it was erected in the medieval years, the church and surrounding complex served as a jail and then a theater during the Soviet controlled years. It only became a functional church again towards the end of Russian control in 1988. It's currently under massive amounts of reconstruction, and visitors aren't allowed inside.

Metekhi again. There's something I really love about the color of these churches with a clear blue sky during magic hour.

St. George's Church, Sighnaghi. When we walked by the door was open and a womans choir was inside singing. It's been strange seeing a different style of orthodoxy. The smells are the same, the priests all have the long beards that mark their order, and even the iconography is similar. Yet the sounds are completely unique - everything is in Georgian (duh), and while the music is in the prescribed modes and tones of the orthodox institution, I can't help but feel like it's heavily influenced by the traditional music of Georgia. Or maybe the polyphonic harmonies found in Georgian music is actually based off of these orthodox hymns. I'll have to dig into that theory a bit, so don't take my word on it. 

Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, in Mtskheta, looking up to Jvari monastery. Svetitskhoveli is a highly venerated space, as it is the burial place of Christ's mantle (how cool is that?!), and, until the construction of Sameba, it served as the seat of the Patriarch of the church.

Jvari monastery is located on the site where St. Nino converted the pagan king and queen of Iberia back in the 4th century. 

Despite most churches looking impressive, albeit similar, on the outside, it's the inside where they're truly remarkable. Orthodoxy is different from most other forms of Christianity in that icons are heavily present in the churches. Icons are a wonderful and tactile way to tell stories, yet they also serve as a reminder. It's common for there to be some kind of icon at the back of the church depicting the Final Judgement just to make sure the church gets one last jab at guilting you into behaving in the world. It's brilliant, really. 

Iconography is ridiculously interesting. The language written on all icons, whether it is Greek, Georgian, Russian, Armenia, whatever, is linguistically distinct from the common language. Ecclesiastic Georgian actually has letters written on top of each other, signifying that you say the two sounds at the same time. One of the TLG staff members read out an inscription on a tomb when we visited Svetitskhoveli, and while she swears it sounds different, my overwhelmed ears couldn't make the distinction. I'm curious to see if I can actually hear it now, though, since I'm finally used to hearing Georgian. 

Icons follow a very strict formula and everything in them has meaning, even the way someone wears their hair, or how their hands are positioned. They range in size from several feet high to a mere couple inches. Entire shops are dedicated to the sale of these religious symbols, and the number of these shops is rivaled only by the differences found between each and every icon. Some are simply painted wooden panels, while others are elaborately inscribed metal. My favorites are the silver or gold embossed pieces which have only the face and hands of the saint exposed and painted, since those are the parts of the body which are involved in any kind of blessing. 

I've heard a lot of people, usually belonging to an evangelical denomination, trash icons and use them as a reason why the Eastern Orthodox church is false and corrupt. While there are a lot of other examples you could use to justify this claim, most of which would be pretty accurate (like the church fully supporting the suppression of homosexuality here, what?), I find the argument against icons to be the most easily refutable. Many evangelical followers claim that the Ten Commandments, specifically Deuteronomy, forbids the use of images in faith. The passage they're referring to reads: 

You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them; for I the LORD your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments.

What they're forgetting, however, is history. Idols, back when the Ten Commandments were written, referred to the tribute statues erected by the pagan tribes of the Middle East. These idols were to the numerous gods held in reverence by them. Polytheism isn't able to exist in tangent to a monotheistic belief, so the easiest way to convert people was by making the worship of "minor gods" punishable. Icons, however, depict saints, angels, the Holy Trinity (which is another thing evangelicals take issue with), and important events. When people look at them, or light a candle in prayer to a specific saint, they are not worshipping the physical icon. The best analogy for icons is to liken them to pictures of loved ones. If you are missing someone, and you kiss their picture, you aren't kissing the paper it was printed on; you're metaphorically kissing them. The same mentality is applied to the icons. Given Christianity's penchant for metaphors, I'm surprised more people don't get this simple one.

The exit of Svetitskhoveli. I was awful and sneakily took pictures of the churches innards when there were signs all around telling you to specifically NOT do that. I'm going to Hell already. Like this is really going to piss off the big guy even more?

Sprinkled throughout the narthex of all churches are these small areas dedicated to saints. On namesdays, people light a candle in prayer underneath their patron saint. Or if you're feeling particular about what aspect of your life you want to pray for, you light a candle under the corresponding icon.

Unlike American churches of any denomination, these feature wide open spaces where people stand in lieu of benches. It serves several purposes: you can cram more people in for liturgy, you're always slightly uncomfortable to make sure you remember just how much suffering Jesus did for you so stop being such a sinner, and you feel small. 

The insides of the domes are beautifully painted with the same ornate artwork found around the walls and frescos on the lower levels. The downside is that they're usually so high up that you can't fully appreciate them, but maybe that's a physical representation of the mystery of god or something.

Again, it's crooked cause I was being sneaky. But you can see a little better some of the artwork which adorns the walls. The most ornate murals and pieces of work face east normally. In the top right corner you can see a destroyed area. Thank the Russians for that. During Soviet control many ecclesiastic spaces were desecrated. I've seen a lot of saints with their faces scratched out, or entire walls that were buried underneath a coat of paint. It was part of a movement to not only make the state atheist, but also abolish a Georgian national identity to better transform them into good commies. 

The altar area. In typical orthodox fashion, it's closed off except for the men of the clergy, and, well, men in general. Women are never allowed behind that wall, not even to clean. What all is back there, I have no idea, but part of me desperately wants to eat a cheeseburger during lent back there, just to really show 'em.

The inside of Jvari monastery is pretty tame. Not every church is heavily decorated, and some, like this simple chapel, feature only decorative stonework and some icons.

Each church has an assortment of candles you can buy. This is a religious institution, everybody - you need to pay some money SOMEWHERE, so it might as well be in 10 tetri (.05 USD) candles. The itty one in the right hand corner is the one I bought and lit for all my family members who are actually religious.

The most bizarre thing, to me, is that churches are such huge tourist destinations. At any given day, visiting almost any church you want, you're going to see some very lost looking foreigners. But life goes on, so if you happen to be at a church for a wedding, you are not going to be asked to leave. Marriages are so common here that people can't even get a church to themselves for the ceremony. You will probably have to get married at the same time as at least one other couple. The service is way fast, lasting only about a half an hour, which is basically lightening speed for anything orthodox.

A friend of mine married a Georgian man a few weeks ago, and she asked me to take photos for her. I felt very strange, sitting there snapping shots, until I saw this gaggle of fine folk. This was the other couple getting married at the same time. The people behind the ones holding the candles were tourists mostly, and were not involved with the ceremony. This was at Alaverdi, one of the most important churches in Kakheti, on Alaverdoba, the festival day for the church itself. Because it was such an important place, it was heavily targeted by the Soviets. You can see the burn marks on the pillar behind these people, and there was very little artwork that survived left around the narthex. 

Orthodoxy is not just a religion here. It really is a part of Georgia's national identity. In a country which has spent the better part of the last thousand years being invaded or occupied, either by atheists or Muslims, the uniting factor for its inhabitants has been their shared faith. It's amazing what some unity can do in the staving off of outside influences. It's so deeply ingrained that everyone, even the not terribly religious, and the young, and the bent over elderly, pause and make a cross when they walk or drive past a church.
Every house I've been in has a small table on one of the eastern walls which has some candles, incense and at least one icon, my house included. My family isn't heavily religious - I've never seen them go to church, and I'm pretty sure the only time they'll think about it is Christmas and Easter. But a few weeks ago we had a priest come over to bless the new parts of the house, one of which being my room. The whole ordeal was very fast, lasting less than half an hour, and the man didn't even stay for a meal, so my mom, sister and I pigged out on some tasty mini supra food. However, my room was the only one to get the following sticker:

I've tried looking around for what all the skull and crossbones means, but I can't find anything on it except on Catholic and evangelical websites talking about how orthodoxy sucks. So, if you know what all the pirate motif is, please let me know! Cause right now I feel like the priest, who doesn't even know me, is telling me I'm not a kargi gogo...

Honestly, this picture is the only reason I wrote this post. I was so geeked that I got in the middle of someone's wedding while taking a stupid iPhone panorama that I felt like I needed to justify my sharing of it. So boom. A post about churches.