October 27, 2014
Columbia, SC: "I never imagined our church would have come this far in so short a time." – A Chronicle of Parish History at St. Elizabeth’s Church

Indeed, it is not the biggest or the tallest, but it is without a doubt the newest dome erected on top of an Orthodox church in the state. It isn’t visible from major thoroughfares, or a landmark in the downtown area of Columbia, South Carolina, but the six-foot dome and the six-foot cross blazes brightly in the morning sun on top of the church of St. Elizabeth the New-Martyr in a cozy, humble neighborhood just west of the state capital. The neighbors, mostly retirees and blue-collar families, were quick to share their opinion of the sparkly blue and gold dome on what was the plain, 1970s non-denominational church building that sat drearily vacant for several years before being bought by this small ROCOR community. They love it.

When the parish of St. Elizabeth the New-Martyr (founded 17 years ago in my living room) decided to buy this building, we were on the verge of losing our storefront church, even though at the time we didn’t know it. This listing came to our attention, and providentially fit all of our requirements, including parking, an additional small building that could serve as a parish hall with a large kitchen, several bathrooms, and possibly adjacent land on which to build a proper church someday.

However, everyone’s high hopes were squashed upon walking into the church building for the first time. From the outside there seemed potential, but upon walking in and seeing the ugly grey-blue carpet, the long pews, the unnaturally bright florescent light fixtures attached to a low ceiling, and windows covered by weird vertical blinds, there seemed to be very little hope of transforming this dark interior into a temple worthy of calling itself Orthodox.

I should back up. There was one person whose optimism nearly drove everyone else to think he was crazy. That person was my husband, our rector, Archpriest Mark Mancuso. Once he pulled up a corner of the carpet and discovered the nearly perfect oak hardwoods beneath, there was no changing his mind.

The pews were removed; the carpet was pulled up and those awful blinds were taken away from the windows. It was then that the interior of the building became a blank slate for the imagination. Plans were drawn up for building an iconostasis, knocking out a wall for a candle-room, and building another wall for the narthex. Despite their former doubt, the people of the parish finally began to see the potential Fr. Mark had seen in this place all along.

Between that day and this, such a transformation has taken place that our neighbors don’t even recognize what were once the four white-washed walls they called their neighborhood church. Walking in, there are vibrant colors from floor to ceiling and a brightness from the windows on the right and left of the nave. What were the only things of architectural interest in the rectangular building, cinder-block pillars, now are wrapped in full-figure icons of Saints Vladimir and Olga.

On a personal note, I must say I never imagined our church would have come this far in so short a time. When a parish is as small as ours, understandably people can and do become exhausted because of the lack of funds and the hard work it involves. Therefore, it was essential that we ask for help from outside our community. And the help quickly arrived from longtime friends of our parish – Orthodox and non-Orthodox alike. Before two weeks had passed, we had raised the sum needed to purchase the dome.

The photos one sees of majestic, golden cupolas being lifted by a crane and guided lovingly into place by the faithful workmen below are not what you will see in the attached photo-report. Unfortunately, the lift we wanted wasn’t working the day we had planned to rent it, so we had to use scaffolding instead. Of that, there were only three two-foot wide platforms available. This meant that our volunteers (including our priest and deacon) not only had to manually lift the dome up to the roof, they themselves had to climb or straddle the scaffolding while tugging, pushing and guiding the dome over their heads. The photos aren’t exactly "majestic."

The possibility of the dome being dropped or falling over the edge and crashing onto the ground below was very real. By the intense prayers of everyone involved (and doubtlessly the aid of angelic arms) the dome was slowly and nail-bitingly raised and firmly attached.

We thank the Media Office of the Eastern American Diocese for asking us to share our story and our collection of photos with the Orthodox world at large. While our work is still not complete (and a second dome is already being discussed), we hope this will help inspire fledgling communities like ours. We are grateful to Metropolitan Hilarion, Bishop George, the Eastern American Diocese, and the ROCOR Fund for Assistance (FFA) for their prayers and continued support, as our parish grows to be a place of beauty and quiet refuge for those seeking the Traditional Orthodox Faith in the American South.

Please pray for us!

Matushka Anne Mancuso