End of an Era

Week Forty-One - Our Lady of the Sacred Heart (Reading)

5:00 Saturday afternoon mass, Our Lady of the Sacred Heart. After a long process of elimination as to which church to visit this week, My Husband the Heathen and I headed east on Cross County Highway to Reading. Our Lady of the Sacred Heart is situated at the end of a cul-de-sac in a well-kept middle class neighborhood. The parish has a considerable expanse of land, which includes a spacious parking lot, a playground, and what appeared to be a very nice elementary school.

Given all of the plusses going on outside of the church, things changed drastically after entering the front doors. There was something . . . well . . . sad here. In short, OLSH seems to be a church fighting to stay alive - and losing. The atmosphere, the decor (or perhaps, more aptly, the absence thereof), dare I say - the congregation, even the choice of hymns reeked of days gone by. My Husband the Heathen described it as "odd." I would have said this was a church clearly in its prime during the 1960's . . . but which hadn't changed a bit since then. I have to believe the static nature of things wasn't a voluntary choice. The baby boomers have moved on, the next generation is struggling, and the seniors can't keep footing the bill. Hence, it was all rather . . . sad. Things got even sadder when we read in the OLSH bulletin that this had been the final year of operation for the parish's school.

I have to be honest and say that I wasn't particularly taken with OLSH, even as it toyed with my emotions. It wasn't aesthetically pleasing, and there was something rather stiff about the whole mass. Pet peeve alert: the priest read his lecture, err, I mean, homily. Kudos for the gentleman, however, who led the singing. He was a man who looked like he should be selling appliances at Lowe's - and maybe he does - but his voice was wonderful. I'm hoping he sings with the May Festival Chorus because, if he doesn't, he should, and frankly, it was a nice change of pace to hear some of the classic hymns that you don't hear very often. Well done. A "Hail Mary" tossed in at the end of the petitions was nice too, as was recognition of a new server's first mass as such.

All things considered, I guess OLSH wasn't so bad. A pleasant little parish. It's unfortunate that it's trapped in a time warp and, if I had to guess, an inevitably fatal one at that.

ATTENDANCE: About half full

DURATION: 45 minutes

Commando

Week Forty - Saint Dominic

7:00 Sunday evening mass, St. Dominic. Ah, summer. Now that the days are longer, the weather is nicer, and school-year responsibilities are finally starting to ease up, I can start hitting the Sunday night masses that I've always been rather fond of. First stop - St. Dominic in Delhi.

Okay. What is it with these west-siders - why is it so hard to get to church on time? Seriously, people. Put down the coney and start the car - it's time to go to church. Actually, compared to a few other masses I've been to, there really weren't that many late arrivals at St. Dominic, but there certainly wasn't an excess of early arrivals either. When my daughter and I arrived at 6:45 for the 7:00 mass, we found an empty parking lot and entered an empy church. We were quite literally the only ones there. I have to say it was a bit unnerving, enough so that I convinced my daughter to track down a bulletin to double-check the mass times. Sure enough, 7:00 was on there, but it was still several additional minutes before any one else joined us.

After that, the crowd size still never really picked up for this Sunday evening mass. Maybe I'm spoiled. As a former fairly regular regular at St. Ignatius' 7:30 Sunday evening mass, I was used to standing-room only crowds, people coming from miles around for their last chance at a weekend mass (and a good one at that). Not so at St. Dominic. Maybe it's due to location - St. Ignatius being more centrally located on the west side versus St. Dominic being more on the periphery. Maybe it's due to a lack of advertising. After all, I didn't know St. Dominic had a Sunday evening mass until I started doing my research. In truth though, the smaller crowd was nice, especially on this particularly warm evening.

I was also surprised by the demographics of the crowd. Again, I had only St. I's mass to compare to, but theirs is a mass clearly designed for the youth (although still drawing all ages). The music, the lectors, the distributors - all teens. I believe St. Jude used to have (and might still occasionally have?) a similar Sunday evening mass. I like these "youth" masses - I like the music and I like seeing the kids. I assumed St. Dominic would follow what has proven to be a successful formula in bringing teens to mass, but again I was mistaken. I was somewhat disappointed with what turned out to be a rather vanilla mass - one that was pleasant enough, but nothing spectacular. The music was an excellent single female soloist, playing standard fare at an unfortunately rather rinky-tinky piano. Nothing happened here to specifically appeal to a younger crowd. I suppose then, in retrospect, it was no surprise that the congregation was a mixed bunch - some teens, yes, but also older couples, families, etc. in equal proportions. Not a bad thing, of course. It just wasn't what I was expecting. Sidenote: I felt really bad for a frail, older woman who was slowly and carefully helped by her son to a seat on the center aisle, second row. Within minutes, two men came in after her and took a seat in the first row, directly in front of her, completely blocking her view. As if it would have killed them to scoot over a few feet to the right.

I suppose it comes as no surprise that this was a casual affair. I haven't seen that many athletic shorts and t-shirts since my last Reds game. I was a bit worried when one of the servers lit the altar candles before mass in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. All was well though when he and a partner later emerged in classic server-wear. Even the priest seemed to be revelling in the laid-back atmosphere, however. As he made his way through the aisles sprinkling water on the flock in a Pentecostal celebration, I commented to my daughter that, given the big white socks and gym shoes peeking out from under his vestment, he seemed like a nice man. It was then, however, that we realized that there was more than big white socks peeking out - his bare legs were peeking out too! Either his pants had gone flood-water, he was wearing shorts, or . . . well, never mind. Hey, those vestments are probably hot, right? And, if his rather animated and impassioned homily (and a good one at that) was the norm, I won't blame him for his choice of attire . . . or lack thereof.

Given all the casualness of the mass, things at the altar actually seemed pretty strict. The servers never wavered in their hands-folded posture (the kind with the fingers pointing straight up), and I was happy to see that the lectors, ushers, and eucharistic ministers all seemed to follow a definite dress code - skirts, dress pants, no jeans. It looked nice, but it was an odd oxymoron to what was going on around them.

My daughter ran into one of her friends at this mass, a young man who is not a parishioner at St. Dominic's church either. His presence confirmed one of the trickier aspects of visiting churches in the summer - "beware the summer festival." Our Lady of Victory's festival this weekend had forced him elsewhere, i.e., St. Dominic's. As luck would have it, we timed our visit to St. Dominic just right as their own festival is next weekend. Mental note: always check an online bulletin for weekend activities before venturing out over the next few months.

ATTENDANCE: About one-third full

DURATION: 50 minutes

Duty Calls

Week Thirty-Nine

Duty calls . . . at home.

The Great Hall

Week Thirty-Eight - Saint Mary

4:00 Saturday afternoon mass, St. Mary's, Hyde Park. There's something rather Anglican about St. Mary's church. I'm not sure exactly what made me think this. The high ceiling? The incredibly detailed stained glass windows? The abundance of rich, dark wood? No. Nothing really strikingly different there from several other Catholic churches. There was just something about the arrangement of those items, the presentation that made me think . . . Hogwarts. Not a bad thing given that St. Mary's really is a beautiful church. Ornate in the most classic sense. It's definitely striking when you get that first glimpse of the interior. Of course, on this chilly, blustery, overcast Saturday, I suppose it was only natural that that first impression also made me feel that there should have been a vicar presiding over the service.

I'm pretty sure that one of things that made me go British here was the prominent display of large coats of arms throughout the church. Big and colorful, all of the big names and crests were repesented on these banners - Tommy Hilfiger, Izod, Ralph. Not really, of course, but with the church's central location in Hyde Park, I suppose I wouldn't have been surprised if they were. What did surprise me was the real lack of prep among the congregation. Other than the embroidered polo player on my daughter's shirt, I don't think I caught a glimpse of any other fashion status symbols. Oh, I suppose the rumors could be true - "no logo" is the new logo. I did notice several Burberry plaid accessories, but my fashion savvy daughter again enlightened me, telling me that what I had assumed was a "real" Burberry purse carried by the woman next to us was, in fact, a knockoff. Don't ask me how she knew. I, on the other hand, one-upped her by pointing out an obvious Target fashion purchase. Take that.

Of course, the fashion trends of this congregation were largely determined by the number of seniors in attendance, and there were a lot of them. I had to circle the block twice waiting to reach the parking lot because a small Metro shuttle bus was blocking the road as it dropped off quite a significant number of seniors for mass. Once I finally got into the church, my timing was just right that I got to play doorman for several little ladies and their rollators (or, as my children lovingly refer to them, "the little engine that could"). Walking up the center aisle to receive communion, I couldn't believe the area between the front section of pews and the back section. It was a virtual parking lot of canes, walkers, rollators, and wheelchairs. I don't know how they ever sorted them out when it was all over. How many seniors were there? Well, let's put it this way: St. Mary's had one eucharistic minister designated just to troll the pews looking for those unable to make their way on their own to receive communion. That was nice. Soooo, the very weekend I chose to visit St. Mary's, an apparent mecca for the senior set, was the same weekend I received my first AARP membership card. Coincidence? Or something greater? Troublesome, either way.

Mass at St. Mary's was uneventful. My only complaint fell with the music. A definite lack of music leadership left the crowd mumbling unsuredly through the hymns. I'm not sure what the problem was because a young girl, prominently situated behind the priest, was clearly intended to fill that position. Sound system problems that were noticeable at other times in the mass may have been partly to blame. Still, I don't know if I was more embarrassed for her because of the lack of audible words coming from her clearly visible efforts . . . or the fact that, well aware of her position on the altar, she had still chosen to wear jeans and a t-shirt. Oh yeah, I'm a card-carrying AARP member.

ATTENDANCE: Half full

DURATION: One hour

Class of 2010

Week Thirty-Seven

Another detour this week. Attended mass at a private celebration with my daughter as her high school years come to a close.