I Went to Church!!

It wasn't really planned, but one night earlier this week while out to dinner with the family, the discussion came to Christmas.  I thought it might be nice to go to a midnight mass for Christmas to show my daughter what that spectacle is all about.  You see, she's been to plenty of church's, but I had never taken her to a full Catholic mass.  What better time than Christmas.

So on Christmas Eve we changed the plans a bit and instead of midnight mass, we went to a 9pm mass at a local Catholic Church.  We left early knowing it would be crowded.  Sure enough, even though we got there more than 30 minutes before the mass was to begin, we had some trouble finding a place to sit.  One of the families was nice enough to scoot over a bit to make room and we took our seats at the end of one of the pews.  I didn't feel comfortable though.  You see, when I was growing up going to church every week, we used to talk about those types, the ones who only came to church at the holidays.  The "visitors".  Now here I was, one of those.  Finally, the mass began.

It's been a while since I've attended a mass myself, and this time it felt different.  It was like being an alien from another planet observing the gathering.  I didn't feel part of the community anymore and as I listened to the priest talk and the ritualistic response of the crowd, I couldn't help but feel like they were brainwashed, reciting the appropriate lines at the right time in unison without really any thought to their meaning.

You see, the Catholic mass is very much a set ritual, not much variation beyond the readings and the sermon by the priest.  I found myself going through the motions without having to really think about it.  The standard prayers came back to me with ease that I had recited for so many years growing up.  My daughter looked at me in confusion and several times during the mass asked me questions about what was happening and why.

During his sermon, the priest welcomed the "visitors" and expressed his hope that we might become permanent members of the congregation.  It was a nice sentiment and I appreciated the openness.  But I couldn't help but see Donald Sutherland from the movie The Invasion of the Body Snatchers every time the term "visitors" was used.

Then the time came for the Eucharist.  I could have gone, but decided not to.  Given my feelings about religion in general, it wouldn't have been right for me to accept communion.  So when the time came, we had to stand up, get out of the way and let everyone else in the row get in line.  Another clear indication that we were "visitors".  Once they were past, we sat down again.

The mass ended and we headed home.  My daughter and I had a nice discussion about the mass and especially about the Eucharist.  She was curious about what a person had to do before they could accept communion.  I told her about the sacraments of the church and how a persons first communion is one of them.  And really that was the intent of the event.  To let her see some of what the church is about and to help her better understand what Christmas is supposed to be for.

Finally, it was getting late and it was time to get her to bed so that Christmas could come.

Merry Christmas everyone.