I am doing some church hopping lately. I have been attending mass at Ohio Dominican University, but school is out of session until mid January. So I went to St. Francis of Assisi in Columbus today. I know some folks who go there, including my theology advisor, a few people in my masters program and my future housemate.
The church is small, very beautiful and well attended. The parish has a strong devotion to their patron saint, which is unusual these days. Today, the choir did a magnificent acapella number during the offertory. Fr. Atwood's sermon was excellent and called us to see God's presence--and invitation--everywhere. Each day, we are given the same invitation offered to Joseph and Mary so many years ago: Is there room for God here?
This was all well and good, but it was after mass that I felt church the most. There was an invitation to help put up Christmas decorations. I gladly participated. I'm not a good crowd estimator, but there were probably 30 or more people stringing up garland, setting up Christmas trees, and hanging wreaths. There was endless sweeping up of pine needles and a shipment of poinsettias to unload. Kids were sometimes running around, at other times dutifully helping and often both at the same time. People put themselves to the task in their own unique way, some orchestrating, some judging the evenness and placement of the decorations, some lifting things or putting things up, with the pastor sweeping the floors right there with us.
I feel bad for people who expect too much from the Sunday service. The Sunday service is really meant to be a climax and a capstone of a week of Christian living. It is best set against a week of service, study, theological arguments and just good living. However, for many the Sunday service is their only community expression of their faith. People who are searching in their faith often look for the answers at Sunday services and leave disappointed. I feel bad for the people who get up to take communion and then instead of returning to their seats to end the mass with everyone they just keep right on going out the door and to the parking lot, to beat the rush, I guess. They "got" what they came there for. Or did they? Those who left when the service was over today would have missed the point.
As Fr. Atwood asked in his homily: Where is God's house? Is it inside of the walls of the Church building or the homes of the families burned out from an arson attack just last night? Was God's invitation just to Joseph and Mary or is it really to everyone? In light of the events today, you might start to ask where "Church" actually is, and what exactly is this thing called "Church." And when does communion happen?
Today, there was communion after mass at St. Francis of Assisi Church.
Just to add: Sometimes it is those times outside of church where "church" really happens.
ReplyDeleteAnd the Sunday service if often much richer when you have had those other experiences throughout the week of involvement in the faith and community. When you do that, then the Sunday services can come more fully alive to you.
My favorite moment at church is on the days when I'm a greeter. As everyone is coming in for the morning, re-greeting each other (they may not have seen each other all week), and I'm standing by the door to the sanctuary, passing out the order of service, saying, "Good morning!" There's a peace in that. A warmth, a friendiless, a feeling of being home. I don't know all these people (though I'm getting to know more and more of them as time goes on), but I feel like they are a part of my family in some larger way. That's my favorite part of the service is greeting everyone before the service actually starts. I think that's communion too.
ReplyDeleteYesterday morning, a parishioner I don't even know that well, came up to me and gave me something she called a "rainbow" as she exclaimed happily, "Happy Chanakah, Solstice; Merry Christmas!"
It's a beautiful little tear drop jewel that sparkles in the light. She was handing them out to everyone in the congregation. I suddenly felt inadequate in that I thought perhaps I owed her a little something thoughtful.
But it was nice. Because she identified me as someone who is there often and she included in me in the group of people to whom she was passing out this little hopeful winter gift. I really feel like I belong here at this church and it's definitely more than what goes on in the services themselves... I think we are a community of individuals who are working together to make our community a better place to live in...