Even road-weary tourists look for the next exit upon the sight.

"When I'm out working on the garden or on the cupola, at least four or five people always stop by," says Father Seraphim Cardoza. "A lot of them are tourists heading south. They all want to stop and see the building."

What they are stopping to see is an old barn just north of the freeway about a mile east of the city of Rogue River that has been converted into a traditional-looking Russian Orthodox Church, complete with cupolas -- onion domes -- and three-bar crosses.

A lean, soft-spoken fellow with flowing white beard and white hair, Cardoza with his black cossack and cap certainly stands out among Southern Oregonians. The black-robed priest represents one of the most ancient branches of the Christian faith, the Orthodox Church.

But the sky-blue building with the golden cupolas is decidedly unorthodox in Oregon. He says it is the only one of its kind in the state.

Although work continues on the remodeled barn, he and fellow Orthodox believers began holding services in it five months ago.

"Most of the people stopping in are not Orthodox," he says as his large hands continually work a prayer rope. "The truckers who honk probably aren't Orthodox. But they all feel a deep sense of peace and beauty when they see it."

That's suits Cardoza just fine.

"I prefer not to hit you over the head with the bible," he says. "I prefer to build something beautiful and maybe touch somebody driving by."

Moreover, he prefers not to call the building a church. Rather, he sees it simply as a private chapel where followers of the Orthodox faith worship.

The chapel services begin at 6 p.m. each Saturday, resuming at 9 a.m. Sunday. He may get two dozen, maybe less than half a dozen.

"We are not a church," he says. "When you think of a church, you think of people out evangelizing. They are in the phone book. They are advertising. They have a sign out. We do none of that."

Cardoza follows a simple life. He doesn't cut his hair or beard. He has no salary.

"Every now and then someone will help with a donation," he says. "All of this was donated."

Until the building itself was donated by a Russian woman now living in Eugene, he and his congregation gathered as members of the St. Innocent Russian Orthodox Church in Medford.

"We felt it was time to have a different building, something a little more orthodox, although we did a nice job with the other building," he explains. "We wanted a building that makes people feel good and loved."

The priest, who visited Greece last year to look at that country's old Orthodox churches, made a point of making sure the interior of the congregation's place of prayer reflected the appearance of ancient churches.

Inside the chapel are colorful paintings of saints, wooden icon stands and candles of pure beeswax filled with pure olive oil.

"Everything in here is to glorify God," he says.

He believes it was heavenly intervention that made the chapel possible, from acquiring the old barn to the icons given to him in Greece.

Local residents pitched in, he says. One built the large dome. Another donated gravel for the driveway. A local lumber company offered lumber and a landscaper provided expertise, all at reduced cost. Harry and David gave the church roses for the flower garden.

"This building has to look like heaven on earth," he says. "Most churches built nowadays look like a gymnasium, like a community center. Then they put up a few crosses."

A building that offers bingo doesn't do anything for Cardoza.

The priest, who has a degree in theology, majoring in church history, is a former protestant minister raised as a Catholic.

He turned to orthodoxy some two decades ago because he felt it offered undiluted religion. He is married with children, a condition he says was normal for priests in ancient times.

Being a priest doesn't make him any better than anyone else who steps in the chapel door, he cautions.

"I was a scoundrel -- I'm still a scoundrel," he says. "I've done things I shouldn't. We all have.

"But I'm not here to judge other people," he adds. "I just feel I owe something to God, to nature, to people. This community has been wonderful."

Volunteers are currently building a shrine to St. John the Barefoot, named because he gave his shoes to the needy.

"Anyone off the highway will be able to come in and pray," Cardoza says of the shrine.

The next step in converting the old barn into a chapel is having frescoes of religious scenes telling the story of the Bible painted on the interior walls, he says.

"My next prayer is for an iconographer," he says. "I don't want someone coming along who wants to paint. To do it properly, you have to be blessed and trained for such a thing.

"I believe that person will come," he adds.