First Mass
I attended the 11:15 mass at St. George’s on Sunday. It was a humble little 100-year-old church. The first thing I noticed was how sparsely decorated it was. The Catholic Church I attended back in Brooklyn, St. Stephen’s, sported stained-glass windows on every wall, a frescoed ceiling, a huge pipe organ that rested on the balcony, large statues of Mary, Joseph, and St. Michael (as well as other pieces that are slipping my mind at the moment) to accompany the thirteen stations of the cross statuettes, candles and flowers everywhere, and an altar that displayed a large crucifix attached to what I remember being a towering marble faux-castle, of sorts. And this was one of the tamer Catholic Churches I’ve been to.
St. George’s had some stained glass and a single crucifix hanging over the altar (sans Jesus) and that was it. I liked that, honestly. I even remember as kid believing that it was hypocritical of the faith to promote humility and altruism yet have a church packed with costly and meaningless decorations. The money spent on the altar of my old church alone probably could have fed a large family for five years. I understand most of the stuff is donated, but you’d think someone at the parish would say, “Why don’t you put this money towards ________.” I think the physical appearance of my childhood Church was my very first bone of contention with Catholicism.
Another thing I noticed was the instant acceptance. There were priests at the door greeting people as they walked in. I was an altar boy at St. Stephens – I remember how it went there. We waited for the priest to come down from the rectory, usually a couple of minutes before mass actually started. Then we walked to the altar and it was only after the mass that the priest greeted the congregation.
I think this is important…St. George’s made me feel welcomed right from the start. It also helped that every pew had a take-home “Welcome to St. George’s” pamphlet. It gave an overview of the church and the upcoming schedule. It even had a tear-out in it that was to be filled out by the folks that were new to the church so that the congregation got to know you.
I felt welcomed and it felt nice.
The next thing I noticed was the female priest. I expected this but it was still a shock to me. Again, it was nice to see – just different, that’s all. The collection of clergy folks could be considered a crew. In St. Stephen’s there was the priest, the reader, and three alter boys for every mass (not including Christmas, Easter, etc). St. George’s seemed to have a reverend, two priests, a choir, several acolytes, and probably other people but they all flew by so fast.
The singing…wow, the singing. The choir sounded great. But the congregation – they sang. In the Catholic Church, I find we usually don’t sing in the angelic “praise Jesus” sense. We sort of chant rhythmically but solemnly. It’s the Catholic guilt thing, I guess – Jesus died for us so there’s no reason to be happy in his house. The Episcopal Church felt like Jesus died for us so that we can be happy in his house. It was a stark difference.
We sang a lot. I sang along as well, finding confidence in my voice as the mass went on. The entire service, hymns, prayers, and routines, were laid out in the weekly pamphlet, once again allowing a newbie to stay on track.
There were other little differences – like the fact that we all knelt at the altar to receive communion and the wine didn’t seem to be an option (I never took the wine in Catholic mass). Also, during the thanksgiving and Eucharist portion of the mass, kneeling was optional. You could choose to stand. I stood, only because I was never allowed to before.
And then there was the sermon. It was based on Sunday’s gospel story, the parable of the Unrighteous Steward. Every sermon I have ever seen (and I’ve seen a lot) consisted of the priest talking about what today’s gospel story means. “In today’s gospel, we heard about ________. The story is meant to ________.” That’s it. That’s what it means – it’s gospel. The reverend’s sermon, however, started with him saying that there are SO MANY DIFFERENT interpretations of the Unrighteous Steward. He then quotes different religious texts that give different meanings to the parable. After all of that, he proceeds to tell us what he BELIEVES the parable is telling us.
This open-mindedness and acceptance of the fact that our interpretations of the bible are just that – interpretations – really opened my eyes to something I’ve been missing from organized religion in the past. It was brought home even further when, during the sermon, the reverend says that God wants us to be childlike and innocent but he also wants us to know when to be critical, free-thinking, and shrewd. That might not seem like a big deal to a lot of you, but in my earlier church-going days I was never encouraged to be “free thinking and critical.” I was just told to believe and accept.
He went on in his sermon to tell us that we need to use our skills and means within this modern world to spread the word of God. I found it funny that I already decided to blog about my experiences.
There was more singing and the mass was over. I left…I wanted to introduce myself to the reverend since I talked to him over email but I didn’t really see him. I didn’t feel comfortable introducing myself to the other priests at the exit. I don’t know why but it was certainly a fault of mine and not their’s. I did feel good walking towards my car and reflecting on my experience. I even felt good during most of the drive home. But before returning home there was this overwhelming sadness inside me, brought about by nothing at all. I don’t know what I expected, and I don’t know how I got to where I was, but it took an hour to shake it.
I don’t have anything else to say on that at the moment. We’ll see how next Sunday’s mass goes. There was a young adult get-together at Whitlow’s this Thursday but I don’t feel like going for some reason…I don’t know why. Honestly, I’m sort of feeling like I need a partner in this. I know I’m not going to have one, not yet, at least, but it’s a tough thing to try to jump into on your own. It’s funny – I started this because I was feeling lost and now I feel even more lost. It’ll turn around, I’m sure, I just need to give it time.
St. George’s had some stained glass and a single crucifix hanging over the altar (sans Jesus) and that was it. I liked that, honestly. I even remember as kid believing that it was hypocritical of the faith to promote humility and altruism yet have a church packed with costly and meaningless decorations. The money spent on the altar of my old church alone probably could have fed a large family for five years. I understand most of the stuff is donated, but you’d think someone at the parish would say, “Why don’t you put this money towards ________.” I think the physical appearance of my childhood Church was my very first bone of contention with Catholicism.
Another thing I noticed was the instant acceptance. There were priests at the door greeting people as they walked in. I was an altar boy at St. Stephens – I remember how it went there. We waited for the priest to come down from the rectory, usually a couple of minutes before mass actually started. Then we walked to the altar and it was only after the mass that the priest greeted the congregation.
I think this is important…St. George’s made me feel welcomed right from the start. It also helped that every pew had a take-home “Welcome to St. George’s” pamphlet. It gave an overview of the church and the upcoming schedule. It even had a tear-out in it that was to be filled out by the folks that were new to the church so that the congregation got to know you.
I felt welcomed and it felt nice.
The next thing I noticed was the female priest. I expected this but it was still a shock to me. Again, it was nice to see – just different, that’s all. The collection of clergy folks could be considered a crew. In St. Stephen’s there was the priest, the reader, and three alter boys for every mass (not including Christmas, Easter, etc). St. George’s seemed to have a reverend, two priests, a choir, several acolytes, and probably other people but they all flew by so fast.
The singing…wow, the singing. The choir sounded great. But the congregation – they sang. In the Catholic Church, I find we usually don’t sing in the angelic “praise Jesus” sense. We sort of chant rhythmically but solemnly. It’s the Catholic guilt thing, I guess – Jesus died for us so there’s no reason to be happy in his house. The Episcopal Church felt like Jesus died for us so that we can be happy in his house. It was a stark difference.
We sang a lot. I sang along as well, finding confidence in my voice as the mass went on. The entire service, hymns, prayers, and routines, were laid out in the weekly pamphlet, once again allowing a newbie to stay on track.
There were other little differences – like the fact that we all knelt at the altar to receive communion and the wine didn’t seem to be an option (I never took the wine in Catholic mass). Also, during the thanksgiving and Eucharist portion of the mass, kneeling was optional. You could choose to stand. I stood, only because I was never allowed to before.
And then there was the sermon. It was based on Sunday’s gospel story, the parable of the Unrighteous Steward. Every sermon I have ever seen (and I’ve seen a lot) consisted of the priest talking about what today’s gospel story means. “In today’s gospel, we heard about ________. The story is meant to ________.” That’s it. That’s what it means – it’s gospel. The reverend’s sermon, however, started with him saying that there are SO MANY DIFFERENT interpretations of the Unrighteous Steward. He then quotes different religious texts that give different meanings to the parable. After all of that, he proceeds to tell us what he BELIEVES the parable is telling us.
This open-mindedness and acceptance of the fact that our interpretations of the bible are just that – interpretations – really opened my eyes to something I’ve been missing from organized religion in the past. It was brought home even further when, during the sermon, the reverend says that God wants us to be childlike and innocent but he also wants us to know when to be critical, free-thinking, and shrewd. That might not seem like a big deal to a lot of you, but in my earlier church-going days I was never encouraged to be “free thinking and critical.” I was just told to believe and accept.
He went on in his sermon to tell us that we need to use our skills and means within this modern world to spread the word of God. I found it funny that I already decided to blog about my experiences.
There was more singing and the mass was over. I left…I wanted to introduce myself to the reverend since I talked to him over email but I didn’t really see him. I didn’t feel comfortable introducing myself to the other priests at the exit. I don’t know why but it was certainly a fault of mine and not their’s. I did feel good walking towards my car and reflecting on my experience. I even felt good during most of the drive home. But before returning home there was this overwhelming sadness inside me, brought about by nothing at all. I don’t know what I expected, and I don’t know how I got to where I was, but it took an hour to shake it.
I don’t have anything else to say on that at the moment. We’ll see how next Sunday’s mass goes. There was a young adult get-together at Whitlow’s this Thursday but I don’t feel like going for some reason…I don’t know why. Honestly, I’m sort of feeling like I need a partner in this. I know I’m not going to have one, not yet, at least, but it’s a tough thing to try to jump into on your own. It’s funny – I started this because I was feeling lost and now I feel even more lost. It’ll turn around, I’m sure, I just need to give it time.
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