4:00 Saturday afternoon mass at Our Lady of Lourdes. Situated in the heart of Western Hills, these are my people, and if it weren't for the fact that most of my elderly relatives have already passed away, several of them would have been in attendance.
Our Lady of Lourdes is a big church and, I presume, a big parish. A beautiful gathering space prefaces the semicircular church - Our Lady of Lourdes, The Church of Sensory Overload. There's a lot going on here, with little order. A definite (but not disagreeable) scent of incense is immediately evident. Half of the seating is pews; half is chairs. There's a lovely peach-colored, arched ceiling over the altar, a ceiling enhanced by lighting and adorned with angels and a bible verse. There are flowers and candles - red candles and blue candles and white candles. The tabernacle is framed by a drape of sheer white cloth, and there are several statues beyond the requisite Mary and Joseph - St. Francis, St. Therese, and what I presume is Our Lady of Lourdes. After being in business for 82 years (the church anniversary being celebrated this particular weekend), I guess you tend to accumulate these things. Still, I couldn't help feeling like I was in an open-air marketplace, a virtual Moroccan bazaar.
The Call to Worship included instructions to "take a moment to greet those around you." No. Stop. Just stop.
Other than that moment of awkwardness, there was only one other issue, and it was a big one - the music. A children's choir of roughly a dozen students was sweet, but the woman leading the congregation in song? Oh, boy. I'm no Celine Dion, so who am I to be critical, but seriously - nails on a chalkboard. It was painful. I'll just leave it at that.
There was a large clock on a side wall. I had mixed feelings about this clock. I didn't see it at first and was sitting through what I felt was an interminable mass - surely, I had been there for hours - but after spotting the clock and seeing that it was only 4:45, I felt better. Maybe this mass wasn't as torturous as I had thought. Unfortunately, I may have been breathing easier, but now I couldn't take my eyes off the darn thing. Personal fault.
The few deficits that Our Lady of Lourdes had were more than made up for in comfort - super comfortable padded seating and coordinating upholstered kneelers - and, of all things, hygiene. Before the eucharistic ministers took their places at the altar, each helped him or herself to a generous squirt of hand sanitizer. Brownie points.
At this point, I can't ignore the fact that, when attending Saturday afternoon masses, I'm generally not getting a full picture of a parish. The physical church obviously doesn't change between Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings, but the character and abilities of the parish definitely do. Saturday masses never showcase the best musical offerings of a parish; they never include the full range of talent in residence. What they do do, however, is draw the seniors, and they do it well. At this mass, in particular, walkers, canes, and wheelchairs were plentiful. Only about half of the congregation could kneel at the appropriate times. I didn't care. I had no doubt that, among the many senior citizens in attendance, more than a few were original parishioners . . . from 82 years ago. Impressive.
ATTENDANCE: Half full
DURATION: 60 minutes
No comments:
Post a Comment