I like its traditions, I like its strong sense of community, I like its words and poetry. I like religious people; people who beautifully believe in the tie that binds them to one another. I like churches and temples. I like congregational singing. I like the tradition and meaning behind every act that happens in a religion.
I have been happily attending several religious services at various congregations throughout the Tampa Bay area recently. One religion that I realized I've been ignoring is Catholicism. We all remember the Catholics at this particular season because of the (in)famous Mardi Gras celebrations. One of my firm's offices is located in Baton Rouge, and they sent King Cakes to all our other offices last week. So yesterday, on Fat Tuesday, I had a slice of it (and managed to avoid finding the baby), and I decided that today, I'd like to attend an Ash Wednesday mass.
Downtown Tampa hosts a marvelous parish -- Sacred Heart Catholic Church. I stayed at work late today, and then drove straight to the church to attend their 7:30 Ash Wednesday mass. It's always a little weird going to a religious service by yourself, but I guess I've done it enough times to get over that initial urge to turn around and walk right out when you realize that you know no one and have no clue what you are supposed to be doing. ;-) I took a seat in the back of the church (without doing the whole holy water sprinkling deal, because I didn't know I was supposed to. Oops!). Anyway, as 7:30 drew closer and closer, I got more and more antsy. I'd only been to one other mass before, and it was last Easter, at a parish in Maryland with my boyfriend. I kept remembering all the little nuances and acts of kneeling, standing up, sitting down, and talking that took place during that mass, and I suddenly realized that I had the potential to do something really, really wrong if I didn't know what was going on. I hopped up and found an usher to seek guidance from a couple of minutes before the service began.
"Hi, um, do you guys have like a program?"
"...a what?"
"A program. ...I'm not Catholic and I've never done this before, so I just want like an itinerary of events so I know what to do or what not to do."
"You aren't Catholic?"
"No sir, I just wanted to experience an Ash Wednesday service."
"Oh! Oh... alright then. Uhm, well -- Catholics believe..."
And he went off on a short tangent about Christ physically manifesting himself during a Catholic service, and how we will all return to dust, and that we have the ashes smeared on our heads as a reminder of this truth. ...And also that I shouldn't take the communion since I'm not a Catholic. That was pretty much all I needed to know: what NOT to do in order to keep from offending anyone. ;-)
The service began, and everyone passed peace between each other (a tradition that I find absolutely charming and something that I think would make our workplaces happier if we did each morning). We sang songs with the accompaniment of a beautiful organ, said a few touching prayers, and had several verses read to us. It doesn't actually matter what religious service I attend, I will undoubtedly end up crying at some point. Tonight it was during the reading of this verse, from the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 6, verses 1 through 6:
"Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in Heaven. Therefore, when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth: That thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father which seeth in secret Himself shall reward thee openly.
And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut the door, pray to thy Father in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly."
What a poetic reminder for us to practice generosity for the good of generosity itself, not for the promotion of ourselves and of our kindheartedness. Those who publicly give shall be publicly rewarded by men, but those who privately give will be openly rewarded by God.
After the readings, one of the priests spoke to us. He reminded us of the reason that we were all there to begin with: to recall and reflect upon our vaporic lives, that we are from dust and shall return to dust, and that we are sinners.
Then we received ashes. I liked receiving ashes. Everything about a Catholic service is so focused on community as one, not individualistic desires or whims. We all stood at the same time, we all received the same ashes, we all had the same Latin phrase whispered over us as we received the ashes, we all sang the same song. I knew no one in the entire church, and yet I felt like they were all my family.
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| Ashes to Ashes, M |
I'm impressed if you read my rambling blog entry this far. I suppose it wasn't really for anyone except myself. I like to think that, one day, I will believe in something so passionately that I will give my entire being to it. Until then, I'll receive ashes with the understanding that it is a beautiful tradition that I enjoy partaking in, but one that still leaves me feeling just a little empty and just a little ostracized because it's not the full truth of reality.
Then again, maybe it is.
Then again, maybe it is.
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