Advent (continued)

I went back to Sunday evening mass with Father Fire and Brimstone for the second week of Advent.  There's been a big push to welcome people back to church when they turn up for Christmas.  I'm all for that.  In fact, send them my way.  Looking for church with organ music?  With an older crowd?  On a winding road?  I can get you there.  Oh, wait, you want them to come to this church...

The word being tossed about has been stodgy.   We were told for two weeks in a row that we were too cold and too uptight and that people like other nearby churches because they are all warm and fuzzy.  I've been to some stodgy churches, and I don't think this is one of them.  In fact, I don't think it's stodgy enough.  I wear jeans half the time I'm there for goodness sake.

But really, when I find myself searching, I could use a little more order in my mass and a little less open mike night.  So I took a break from Sunday evening mass and checked out Sunday morning.  The mass itself was a little more me, but I'm not so sure about the crowd.

In other news...

I went back to Nativity for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception and it was lovely.

I have finally been to see Handel's Messiah.  It was amazing and of course left me with lots of questions.  The biggest  being why do we sing this at Christmas?  It was written for Easter tide.  Christmas last year, I commented that Rick "we can't change manger to feed box because that would be ridiculous" Hilgartner has a nice voice.  Turns out I was right.  He sang the Messiah with the rest of the Baltimore Symphonic Chorale.

I'm glad I included book club for one on my to do list for this year.  Rebuilt: The Story of Building a Catholic Mega Church (okay, that's not the real title) will be hitting an online bookseller near you in February.  I'm writing a book too.  It's called Demolished.  Or Already Built.  Well, it's a work in progress.

And lastly Theology on Tap has gotten off to a sputtering start.  If at first you don't succeed...

Here's to finding joy in the third week of Advent.  Until next week...

week one (kidding,kidding...)

 How do you measure a year?

churches: 52

Sundays skipped: 2 (careful readers will note the Epiphany and well, um, Easter are not quite accounted for.  Those are stories for another time.)

non-Catholic churches: 1

number of people suckered into coming to church with me: 7

states: 2

counties: 6

dioceses:  4

tambourines: 4?

tuxedos: 1

priests: 51

Obviously this requires more thought...so for now...Week 53.  

This week, the question "where are we going to church this week?" took on whole new meaning.  I had let myself out of my self opposed obligation to go to a new church every week.  I've decided I'm not done yet, but have also decided that this pace is getting annoying.  Maybe one a month for the next year.  I hope to role out the next phase of my crazy ideas soon.

I felt strangely compelled to go back to Nativity.  Once upon a time, I had a lofty idea that I would go back to 5:30 mass at St. Pius and celebrate with dinner(beer) afterwards.  But how was I supposed to know that Sunday would be cool and rainy and that the Orioles would be in an afternoon playoff game?

So then it was down to the monastery and Nativity for a morning mass.  I mean they are both easy, largely in part because they are right here.  

There were a few things that bummed me out about Nativity.  I didn't notice last time, or maybe they hadn't done it yet, but the shelf below the pew that holds hymnals has been removed.  It looks like an end to Gather books forever.  

It was loud in there.  Really loud.    (To quote me to me, I was looking for protected, quiet time.)  There was significant pre-mass chatter and high volume music.  The lector is a member of the parish staff and seems to read at all the masses.  Kids are pretty well kicked out, and it makes me kind of sad.  Somewhere out there, there are adults who put up with the likes of me in church.  And so much for fasting before mass, I saw a lady actually bring coffee into church with her.

But there was an amazing, albeit lengthy, homily based on First Corinthians: Love always trusts.  I think if you go to their website, you can watch it too.  

I left thinking about all the things that I just wanted to fix.  I wondered about all the old friends I had hoped to see, but didn't.  Instead, I decided it's time to stop searching for memories and start making new ones.   

See you Sunday.  

Church of the Nativity, Timonium

There's a reason I like mass to be no longer than 47 minutes with music.  And to start three to five minutes early.  And preferably be in a church with a hearty dose of brown.  And that reason is Nativity, the place where I have by far logged most of my mass going hours.

I made it to 5:30 mass on Sunday afternoon.  I had last gone there for a friend's funeral, and before that I can't remember for sure.  I was nervous as I walked in.  I took what used to be my regular seat and the feel of the wood below my hands was familiar.  Not much else was.   There was no quiet before mass began.  The altar has been flip flopped and there are now two projection screens on either side of the crucifix.  I can admit that those were helpful for responses for the New Roman Missal and for the Apostle's Creed.

Things got started with a video message introducing us to the current message series on finding happiness.  Later there was a second recorded message reminding us to turn off our cell phones and telling us there are programs available for children.  I could feel myself getting annoyed, but as things got lower tech, I settled down.

A priest I didn't know was saying mass, and I was admittedly disappointed.  I was hoping to hear the homily of a certain pastor.  Never fear, he appeared, as if out of no where,  and gave the homily, which was rather engaging.  But kind of weird.

In fact, the whole thing is kind of weird.  There are responses in Latin and bells to the setting of a Christian rock band.  The Gather books are long gone.  At the end of mass, two members of the parish staff recapped the homily (which is also recapped in the church bulletin, in case you are a slow learner).  Then, they asked you to turn your phone back on so that you could vote for the time of the Easter service (not mass) by text.   Oh, and if you don't have a phone, you can vote by Facebook.

And I was doing so well.   Part of me wants to get philosophical here about how you can't go home again or step in the same river twice or something.  But I won't.  I'll just know that this place holds a lifetime of happy memories and was more than worth a second look.

I'm planning on St. Stephan's in Bradshaw, 6 pm on Saturday.

St. Joe's, Texas (or Cockeysville if you prefer)

Happy New Year!  I was feeling lazy today and went with something easy.  I feel badly that I didn't round up my usual company for a local mass.  I'll work on blog related resolutions later this week.

The New Year started with St. Joseph's for noon mass.   As someone who grew up going to the other parish in town, I suffered a lot of trash talking from St. Joe's parishoners.  St. Joe's was where the real Catholics went becuase they had a school and CCD classes during the week and kneelers.  I had never actually been before.  I didn't know what to expect, but what I found was pretty ordinary.

St. Joe's is another t-shaped church.  It has white walls and plenty of light wood paneling, stained glass here and there.  It was a little more 1960s than I imagined from the stone outside.  It was more crowded than I would have expected for mass at noon.  It took two hymns to get through communion.  There was a cantor with a band and an excellent clarinetest.  The crowd was generally older and most everyone fled during the second verse of Angels we have Heard on High.

The homily was about coming back to church at Christmas like you send cards, as a gesture to keep in touch. The priest went on to talk about how fitting it was to start the new year with mass.  Seems fitting for me, at least for this year.

Week One

I don't know how it happened, but here I am, someone who considers herself a practicing Catholic but who doesn't attend mass.  I know it's absurd.  It's not as though I have renounced Catholicism or chosen another faith tradition.  I still believe in God.  I still pray.  Going to mass used to be part of my routine.  It was easy.  And then suddenly it wasn't. I don't know how to go to church anymore.   And it's not getting better.  I could blame shift and weekend work.  I could blame the many changes in the parish I used to call home.  Neither of those things seem fair.  So here I am, embarking on a one year journey of faith.  I hope you'll join me.

The plan is simple: 52 churches in 52 weeks.  I'll be announcing my destinations like a concert tour and collecting Sunday bulletins like baseball cards.  Sound gimmicky?  It is.  I need this though.  I'm not sure how else to turn around the past four plus years of spotty attendance.

I don't want to turn this into the Yelp of Baltimore area churches.  Incidentally, there are three well reviewed parishes on Yelp, followed by a listing for a pub.  Maybe I should check that out too.   I don't want to offend, just reflect.  So if you have a favorite mass, church, homilist or choir, please let me know.  I'm open to suggestions.

I kicked off my voyage with St. Pius X.  It is the place I most consider my parish these days.  It seemed fitting on the one year anniversary of my sister's wedding. It is the church where both she and my parents were married.  My sister has joked that I rate masses on a likert scale from fire and brimstone to kumbya. I call this one a wash.  As I left the church, I wondered how to journey forward when it seems I might already be home.

Next week, I'll be at the Cathedral of Mary of Queen for 9:15 mass.