Ladies Night

Week Forty-Five - Holy Trinity

4:30 mass, Saturday afternoon, Holy Trinity. I had never even heard of Holy Trinity until I began compiling "The List." Holy Trinity? In Norwood? Huh? Well, the time was right for adventure this week, and so it was that my daughter and I set out to see this mysterious Holy Trinity. Our estimated arrival time was way too early, so we took a quick detour past Xavier University to see how their new and improved campus was coming. Answer? Beautifully. As we made our way back to Montgomery Road, a brief tour of downtown Norwood followed which was - predictably - not quite as beautiful.

In truth, I had actually done a bit of research on Holy Trinity before our visit and discovered that the parish is a result of the consolidation of three churches that had previously been in existence in the area. Thus, in spite of its theological connotation, the choice of name, "Holy Trinity," was no coincidence. Located on well-kept grounds, the church itself, next-door neighbor to the Our Lady of the Holy Spirit Center, is quite impressive. A cornerstone of "1994" threw me and continues to do so since the physical church was actually built in 1940 as Saints Peter and Paul Church. Nonetheless, I was surprised by what I found - a gem in the middle of Norwood of all places. Who knew?

The interior of the church is striking. The painted dome ceiling above the altar depicts - wait for it - the trinity: God the Father, flanked by angels, Jesus Christ the Son, surrounded by Mary, Joseph and the twelve disciples, and the Eucharist, as what I have to assume represents the Holy Spirit, surrounded by a number of saints. If I had been sitting closer, it would have been fun to see how many saints I could identify. Even from where I sat in the back, however, I easily picked out my girl, Saint Therese. Large draped silver and green flags, set at 45 degree angles, lined the sides of the sanctuary. I wondered if the green flags represented "ordinary time" and if there was a whole series of flags color-coordinated to match the seasons of the church. I hope so.

Things were fairly relaxed throughout, like a group of old friends just getting together for coffee . . . and prayer. It started off with the organist introducing himself and stating that he was filling in for "Alice and Steve" and also asking for the congregation's help as he anticipated struggling his way through mass (note: he did fine). The celebrating priest, another "old friend," began mass by casually asking everyone to acknowledge those around them. He then proceeded to make his way to the back of the church, waving and shaking hands on the way. Cute. He must have been almost 100 years old, so the whole thing really was adorable, including his "Hugh Grant" stammer throughout not only his sermon but in the prayers of the mass as well. I also liked the way he very slowly, carefully, and deliberately put the communion wafer in my hand, looking me in the eye and smiling. Priceless.

Prior to mass, a woman approached my daughter and me and asked if we wanted to carry up the offertory gifts. Ugh. Not only have I never done it, I wasn't about to do it at a church I was unfamiliar with. "Oh," I replied, feigning my best "Oh-shoot-any-other-time-would-have-worked" expression. "I think we'll pass. Thanks." A rather terse expression crossed her face. Clearly, "no" was not the correct answer, but not to worry. A nice middle-aged couple performed the work admirably, she wearing her pink shorts, big white socks, tennies, and, yes, a fanny pack.

Everything at Holy Trinity was lovely, but attending mass there still felt odd. I almost felt like I was intruding. Was this mass by invitation only? Or was this 4:30 mass a well-kept secret, just like the church? Attendance was sparse, and the few who were there were almost exclusively older women. Even the servers were two older women dressed in street clothes. Of course, with my own shock of gray hair, I reluctantly have to admit that I fit right in, but still, something was going on here that I'm just not privy to. I suppose I would go back to Holy Trinity some time. Interestingly enough, it was only an increase of 15 minutes in the length of time it would take us to attend 4:30 mass at St. Ignatius, just one mile down the road. If nothing else, you gotta love their priest.

ATTENDANCE: One-fourth full

DURATION: 50 minutes

The Aliens Have Landed

Week Forty-Four - Saint Susanna

7:00 Sunday evening mass, St. Susanna. With high hopes for a tasty treat after mass, the whole family piled into the mighty Odyssey this week and headed out to St. Susanna's in Mason. A bit of a haul, yes, but I'm trying to take advantage of the nice summer nights to make the rounds to the Sunday evening masses. Plus, I wanted to see this Saint Susanna that I'd been hearing so much about. I had actually been to a funeral at the parish's previous church a few years ago, but I had yet to see their new digs. After an almost 40 minute drive, we arrived at what is surely THE church to belong to if you're one of the hundreds of thousands "privileged" enough to live in the area.

Like everything else in Mason/West Chester, St. Susanna's is big, it's new, it's clean, and it's modern. Who designs churches anyway? Oh, it's attractive, I suppose, if you like this sort of thing - a semicircle surrounding a simple, uncomplicated altar. Lots of open air and lots of room to breathe. I like that myself. The rows of pews gradually slope upward so everyone has a clear view of what's going on. Padded pews and overly-padded kneelers were comfy. The ceiling design vividly reminded me of the underside of the spaceship hovering over Johannesburg in the movie, "District 9." I'm not kidding.

Clearly, a lot of thought and planning had gone into this church and into meeting the needs of the community, the most pressing need being size. Yes, this is a big church designed to meet a big and undoubtedly still-growing parish. According to the bulletin (a whopping eight pages of text plus three full pages of advertisements), last week's collection was approximately $31,000. That's no small change, sister. I was unable to locate a recent count for parish population, but in 1999, the number was 2,500 families. I would expect it to be much higher now. The church was nearly full for this mass, a casual crowd of suburbanites, rolling in in mostly shorts and flip-flops. It was an attractive group, most of whom I suspect have a golf course in the backyard of their subdivision home.

I was at a bit of a disadvantage this week as my right ear decided to stop working last week. HUH? WHADYASAY? I went to the doctor today - diagnosis: ear infection, so as soon as I pick up my prescription at Walgreens, I'll hopefully be on my way to full power again. Anyhoo, in the meantime, without both receivers, I really only heard a fraction of the goings-on at St. Sue's, including the music. It seemed adequately good and, naturally, was quite contemporary in nature. Of course, with a parish this size, I would certainly hope that there would be no shortage of talent in the music department. I couldn't tell if the congregation was actively participating or not. I'll blame the ear on that, but I also believe it was due to the size of the church - it's gotta take some serious volume to make a noticeable difference in that large of a space.

All things considered, if you're part of the "next generation," St. Susanna's certainly seems to have a lot to offer. It's nice - in a perfect, sterile, Stepford sort of way. As for the tasty treat after mass? Didn't happen. Contrary to the information on their website, their "new summer hours" closed the shop at 8. It was a long ride home.

ATTENDANCE: Three-fourths full

DURATION: One hour and ten minutes

Charmed

Week Forty-Three - Saint Gabriel

5:00 mass, Saturday afternoon, St. Gabriel. With little on the agenda for this Saturday, a world of possibilities opened up as to which church to visit. Travel time was still reasonable when my daughter and I settled on St. Gabriel's in Glendale. With a close friend living in Glendale, my daughter has made several visits to the area recently and has decided that said village should be her future home. "Yeah," I sighed wistfully. "I remember when I used to wish for that too." After all, what is there to not like about Glendale? Absolutely nothing, as far as I can tell. With tree-lined streets, incredibly charming (and pricey) homes, and, of course, The Grand Finale, it definitely appears that Glendale is perfection when it comes to residential neighborhoods. As a result, with time on our hands and dreams on our mind, the decision to visit St. Gabriel's was an easy one.

St. Gabriel Church is perfect for Glendale. Charming on the outside . . . and, yep, charming on the inside too. Small in size, the church had more of a "chapel" feel to it. Two surprisingly ornate altars to Mary and Joseph overshadowed a fairly barren center altar which was flanked by a meager two candles. Large statues depicting the stations of the cross would probably be worth taking a look at if given the opportunity, and architectural and decorative arches were in abundance just about everywhere. Other than that things were fairly uncomplicated. In some ways, it reminded me of last week's host, St. John's in Harrison. The primary difference though - and it was a big one - was the pristine nature of St. Gabriel's. The church really did look incredibly well maintained. Hymnals aren't even kept in the pews at St. Gabriel's. They must be picked up from a rack before entering the sanctuary and returned at the end of mass, a detail my daughter and I overlooked which left us book-less for the duration.

Music was provided by a unseen gentleman quite talented at both the organ and the piano. His "mood music" before mass was subtle and lengthy enough that it was almost awkward, in a Protestant sort of way. Oh! But get this - the communion wafers were amazing! With a "hearty taste and texture," they may have been whole wheat. My daughter noticed an embossed lamb and/or cross on the wafer. Now that's class.

My only complaint was the pace of the mass. Things here were incredibly slow. The priest's manner of speaking, the lectors' manner of speaking, the cantor's manner of singing. It was all really, really slooooooooooooooow. Plus, I couldn't ignore the fact that the priest used a different wording for the final doxology in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. What's up with that? Isn't that against the rules? Someone! Get Benny on the line!

I'm not sure if I'll return to St. Gabe's anytime soon. I would, however, like to try their "single seater" pews. On either side of the church, lining the walls, is a row of pews just wide enough for one person (or a very close couple). It kind of looked like a roller coaster, and frankly, it looked like almost as much fun. These seats filled up quickly. Even with full-sized pews completely empty across from them, many people chose to take a baby pew for themselves. I'm not sure what that says about those individuals - are they anti-social or just having that little bit of fun? I don't know, but if I can get over the self-consciousness factor, I would like to find out.

Finally, a blatant fashion faux pas at St. Gabriel's forces my hand. It has to be said: a suit jacket does not dress up a polo shirt and jeans. Ever. Sigh.

ATTENDANCE: Slightly less than half

DURATION: One hour

Break Out the Stereotypes

Week Forty-Two - Saint John's (Harrison)

7:00 Sunday evening mass, St. John's, Harrison. Another nice summer night provided the perfect opportunity to attend Sunday evening mass. This week, it was time to roll up the sleeves, hitch up the wagon and head west. Yeeee-hawwww! We're going to Harrison! And not just any Harrison, but "historic downtown Harrison" - and St. John's Church. My son and I arrived a few minutes earlier than we anticipated so we circled the block a few times - a small block of small, well-kept houses with small, well-kept lawns - and still were able to snag street parking directly across from the front doors of the church.

St. John's Church was immediately a study in contrasts. It was evident that a major investment had been made in the set of nice, new doors at the entrance to the church that welcomed us. I was surprised by this and began to think that my preconceptions about St. John's were wrong. Nope. The doors were a fluke - the interior of the church still needed quite a bit of work. Like the neighborhood homes, things here were small and simple. Plain yellow walls (yellow? really?) surrounded a small altar, a small crucifix, a small lectern, and two candles. The wooden pews had definitely taken a beating over the years, and I was embarrassed to see several dropped papers on the floor, loose items in the pews, previously repaired hymnals upended and newly dog-earred. Looks like that Corpus Christi celebration got a little out of hand. Eight large stained glass windows looked fairly ancient in a way that I wasn't sure I liked. A glass-fronted balcony was another paradox, and regrettably, one that looked completely out of place.

The mass itself was a drag, so much so that I found myself apologizing to my son who had accompanied me only at my urging. Music was provided by two older woman, one older gentleman, and a young teen boy. It was . . . what you might expect. The woman playing the keyboard was clearly on a very determined mission to make the most of her time in God's weekly spotlight. She couldn't have been more serious about her role, bless her heart, playing every verse of every song. That's fine when it's fine, but tonight it was just . . . trying, but they were trying which is something quite admirable in the long run, I suppose.

I found the celebrating priest oddly engaging. His homily was interesting and held my attention - something not easily accomplished. Perhaps his "17 years teaching at the seminary" helped, or maybe it was his strong, sincere voice. From a distance he looked like the actor, Edward Hermann. Up close, he did not. Go figure.

I had always thought of St. John's as a "small, country church," but it's definitely not. The parish website lists a current parish enrollment of over 1700 families with six masses offered each weekend. That puts St. John's on a scale very similar to St. Ignatius, but something is different, and with only 350 students enrolled in the parish school and a current deficit for the year as listed in the bulletin of over $36,000, I suspect the difference is economic. A strong increase in residential and commercial development has clearly changed the demographics of Harrison, but it seems those changes have yet to filter down to the collection basket. If St. John's can hang on long enough to wait for some of that money streaming into the city of Harrison to reach them, with the right renovations, their physical church could be incredibly charming. Of course, the physical building is only part of the parish. Given the numbers, the parish community must be already be a strong one. I guess the building can wait.

Meanwhile, on a different note, I need to start chapel veil shopping . . . but that's another story for another time . . .

ATTENDANCE: Mostly full

DURATION: 65 minutes