Fifty Acts 9. Joining the Choir.

So finally I got along to the Catholic (capital C) church after my attempt from last week.  This is another first for me, as I've never been to a Mass before, although I have been to two Catholic weddings.

The Catholic church is located just along the road from the Episcopal and Baptist churches that I've been welcomed to in previous weeks.  Now I know there's a little bit more ceremony than I'm used to in worship, so I'm just going to have to pay attention and do what everyone else is doing.  I take a seat just in front of the organ, and just behind a pillar so I'm out of the way.

The building has a Norman feel to it, (apparently it's Norman with a hint of Gothic) with statuary all around, and some amazingly detailed stations of the cross.  I'm not too big a fan of human sculpture in churches, as it's always a bunch of European white guys carved to depict some Middle Eastern figures.  That said, they were very well done, and the stone altarpiece carvings had a hint of Henry Moore.

The congregation was a complete mix of ages, from the very youngest to the very oldest, and the children were clearly welcomed.  There was not the hissed intakes of breath when one of them dared make a sound, and even when one escaped and started crawling up the aisle, the reaction was more "awww" than "eeew."

So the service begins, and I'm doing quite well following along.  The sermon was on a theme of the greatest commandment, and the priest said that keeping the two greatest commandments is far more important than how many masses you attend.  He did observe that Scottish Catholics were often a dour bunch, not aspiring to much in the afterlife and hoping that the best they could wish for would be a place in purgatory. This sounds like many CofS members I have met!  It's good to know we are all alike.  We need to set our aim higher.

(The whole idea of purgatory and saints intervening for our redemption just isn't me.  Souls are not like Scrabble tiles, stored on a rack until a triple word score comes into play.  You're dead.  God alone decides whether it's the stairway or the highway.)

So I'm following the service up to the point that people start going forward to receive Communion.  The rows in front of me have emptied, as everyone queues in the aisle.  The organ starts up and a hymn begins, so, like the person behind me, I stand too, but she gave me a puzzled look.  I start singing along, only realising that the front row has been served the elements, and when they return to their pews, they kneel back down.  Well there was nothing for it, I just sang along with, what I now know was the choir...  We got to the end of the hymn, and the choir lady behind me thanked me for the support.  At the end of the service, the ladies behind me thanked me for joining in, and asked if I would like to join the choir!  I had to let them down gently, telling them that I wasn't a Catholic (not a problem) I can't sing (apparently that is optional) and I'm training for the CofS ministry.  Even that wasn't enough to dissuade them!

I was chatting with the priest (and my new choir mates) after the service, and yet again, it showed that we have so much in common, although a deeper understanding of each others position would go a long way.  While I was aware that I may not receive Communion, although I could have gone up and received a blessing, my choir friend wasn't aware that CofS communion is open to all Christians.  She now knows that she would be welcomed into a CofS church when she is on holiday, rather than driving 14 miles on a single track road to go to the nearest Catholic church where she may be welcomed.  In the same way that I was welcomed today, I hope she finds a welcome wherever she travels.

Because wherever you are, the two greatest commandments remain the same.