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My Catholic Encounter As I walked up to the front doors of the church, Jen (my former physical therapist) greeted me with a huge smile. We entered the large foyer. "Wait a minute," I thought, "this looks just like the foyers of many Protestant churches. Well, let's see what may be next." As we entered the sanctuary, Jen reached over to a small bowl, and dipped her fingertips in some water, then made the sign of the cross. I knew Catholics "crossed themselves" a lot, so I was not surprised. I followed Jen to a pew about 10 rows from the front, just about where I would have chosen if I'd come alone-not too close, not too far from the front. She knelt briefly (more of a curtsy), and again made the sign of the cross. We sat down and I asked her why she dipped her fingers in the water. She explained it was Holy water, and it represented a purifying of the soul before worship, and that it was the same water used for baptisms. It had been blessed by the priest. I started looking around to get the full effect. On the right of the front in an alcove, a small choir was rehearsing and singing a surprisingly familiar song. Immediately front and center of the altar was a full life-sized crucifix with a life-sized Jesus on the cross. I thought if that did not focus one's thoughts on Jesus, nothing would, but the possibility or potential that it was a sort of "graven image" bothered me a bit. I noticed large stained-glass windows that gave the story of Jesus' crucifixion and burial. I asked Jen if these were depicting what I'd heard Catholics call the "stations of the cross" and she affirmed that. I noted that there was so much emphasis on the death of Christ, but I did not see anything that spoke of his resurrection. I asked her why she "crossed herself", and she explained it was just a symbol of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and was performed anytime one came into the sanctuary, or anytime one walked across in front of the altar, out of respect. About five minutes before the service was to start, the priest rehearsed with the congregation what the responsive singing was supposed to be. I thought this was strange, and thought that Catholics just "knew" what they were supposed to sing, or it was written down in a book somewhere. Then I looked down and in front of us were prayer books and song books, containing the dates of the services for that quarter in "real time". Ours was the 25th Saturday of the year, so we used the words and music for the 25th Sunday. (This reminded me of what we learned in class about Jewish Scripture readings being the same everywhere). As the service progressed, and I listened to the words being said, the scriptures being read, and songs being sung, I realized that these people were worshipping the same God I worshipped, celebrating the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the same Jesus I loved, and appreciated the comfort of God's Holy Spirit as I did. Maybe these Catholics do not believe so strangely after all. Though I had always been taught to stay away from those "idol-worshippers", I never once saw anyone bow down to idols, or praise any one but God and his mercy and grace. The priest spoke of how we should let go of our preconceived images of God, how we should decide how we saw God in our life, and how God's thoughts are so far above our thoughts, yet his love and mercy is the same and extended to all believers, from the most loyal to the newest believer. The priest took a few moments to commission a woman (Wow, this was unexpected!) named Sister Eugena, to help serve the elements for the communion-what he called the holy Eucharest. After the prayer for her, then the elements were prayed over, blessed, waived around, lifted up, then the altar boys took some of each and went to the front, along with Sister Eugina and the priest. A man stood by each row as the followers filed to the front to partake. Since I was not Catholic, I decided it best not to offend anyone, who could already tell by my lack of making the sign of the cross that I was not Catholic (though at my church, the pastor always invites any Christians in attendance to please feel free to partake). Better to be safe than embarrass Jen. After communion, the congregation was asked to greet one another with "peace be with you", and everyone shook hands and greeted each other. I thought this was nice, and familiar, as we shook hands at my church every week with those sitting around us, too. When the service was over everyone clapped. I welcomed that familiar gesture as well. While we were walking out, I asked Jen if this was a modern Catholic Church or a traditional. She explained is was a more modern reformed Catholic Church. I had guessed correctly, as there were no Latin expressions, a woman was commissioned to help (and wore a robe), the songs were familiar to me, only one mention of "Mary the mother of God" and one mention of the Saints, with no prayers offered to either, but only to God. I don't know why I was so nervous, now. It was not so different from basically what I was accustomed to. Take away a few rituals, unexpected memorized repetitions, and the frequent "crossing", and it was home. My Catholic experience had been unexpectedly pleasant, mostly comfortable one. I was impressed with the thought that they do worship the same God that I do--the God of Abraham, the same God who spoke the world into being. As the words carved on the altar said, "The Word became flesh and dwelt among us", I was reminded it was the same Jesus Christ, the same ultimate sacrifice for sin. With that affirmation, I left with the same assurance that the same Holy Spirit of God had blessed each of those people the same way He had blessed me.
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| Created by Laura Ellen Shulman |
Last updated: October 03, 2003
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