For Heaven's Sake....

Despite our Thanksgiving split (we have, after all, the rest of eternity to celebrate T-Day together), we continued on with our mission. This week: Catholicism in two different cities.

It is clear that I have a love for religions with pretty decor. I have to say that the Catholic church I visited looked a lot like a Jewish temple-they are both set-up with high ceilings (to remind you of how small you are), a large altar/stage area on which the important people sit, a choir, leaders in fancy dress, stained-glass windows, and etc. (Except that Jews aren't into pictures of Mary.) I walked in and upon suggestion by Erin, I "tested" out the holy water. I have to admit that because of my 5 months in Kenya when I volunteered with many Catholics, I am an expert on doing the "cross." "Cross," of course, being the technical term. So I did the cross with the holy water, and I sat down on a bench, only to realize I missed the whole kneeling ritual before you enter the rows. My bad.

The service started, we shook hands with our neighbors, listened to the choir, sang a little, and listened to the priest tell an anecdote about how our bodies frequently move too fast for our souls to keep up with. That story got me thinking about why I like walking. Even biking feels too fast for me, sometimes, and walking really helps me regain mental sanity. I was nearly brought to tears several times throughout the service-the existential state of mind I've experienced lately, combined with beautiful choir music, moments of silent prayer and a community of people accustomed to Sunday's ritual, reminded me of my own humanity. Well, all of that plus lots of talk about sins and repentance...

So that brings me up to my favorite part of the whole service: the holy communion. What is a Jew in church to do? After some coaching from Erin and others, I decided to go up for a blessing. This means you walk through the communion line, and when you get to the priest, you cross your arms over your chest to show that you're not Catholic and you can not eat Christ. So, I was blessed today. I can't recall what the words were exactly, but they included something about me becoming a Saint (or something or other). So that's cool. I dig Sainthood.

I was surprised by how little Latin was used (especially after all the take about how some of the service is in Latin). I was also amazed by how diverse the community is! I saw more racial, ethnic, and age diversity there in that one hour that I can see in a week on the streets of our fair city. Moral of the story: I felt a connection to this experience. It felt real. It felt like how I expect a church experience to feel. I feel like I need to repent for my sins and be a better person.