Week Ninety-Five - St. Ignatius' Hilvert Center
10:15 Sunday morning mass, St. Ignatius. I hadn't been back to St. Ignatius since Christmas Eve, and truthfully, I can't really say I was missing it - nothing against St. I's, I'm just enjoying seeing the sights, but sometimes an opportunity presents itself that you simply can't ignore.
For the past month, St. Ignatius has been doing some major renovations in their church - new pews, new carpeting, and something about a large stained glass window. As a result, the church has been unavailable for mass, and all weekday and weekend masses are being celebrated in the St. Ignatius Community Center, what we common west-siders call "the gym," as well as in the Hilvert Center, the largest of the parish's meeting rooms. Now, I've never wanted to attend mass in any gym, especially on Christmas Eve and Easter, something St. I's traditionally offers at their more popular masses on those days, but I've also joked about it enough to know that should it be offered any other time, I just might have to experience it for myself. Ask and ye shall receive. I'm there.
Although I was particularly looking forward to mass at center court, it has to wait until next week. Due to scheduling constraints, this week, my daughter and I attended Sunday morning mass in the Hilvert Center. Although it bore a strange resemblance to other churches I've visited in recent weeks - who shall remain nameless - I have to say it actually wasn't half bad. Of course, the restrooms prominently located off to the side were a novel and unfortunate distraction. No surprise that every little boy and every pregnant woman in attendance had to make use of the facilities. There was also something comical about an entrance procession arriving through a virtual sea of metal folding chairs, rows and rows of metal folding chairs. Well, at least they started out in rows. By the end of mass, things were a bit . . . skewed. Can you hear the classic grating of metal chair legs on a tile floor? Those folding chairs really stole the show. Everything else seemed rather forced. Someone had hung a crucifix behind the "altar" which, as everyone could tell, was really a folding banquet table, and a few candles were lit. A small group of women whom we fondly refer to as "The Birds" provided musical leadership, so in the big picture, I suppose it sufficed. After all, what more do you really need? Well, apparently, you do need something more because, although we had gone through the motions in the Hilvert Center, my daughter and I both came home with the feeling that we still hadn't actually gone to mass.
I have to hand it to the St. Ignatius crowd though. They're a faithful bunch. Although our family attended the 10:15 mass on a fairly regular basis when the kids were younger, it had been more than a few years since I last made it to the 10:15. Amazingly - or not so amazingly - many of the same people are still showing up like clockwork. You could probably tell St. I's parishioners that mass would be celebrated in the frozen food aisle of Kroger's next week, and they would still show up in droves, singing their hearts out and socializing like there was no tomorrow. Gotta love that St. I's spirit. Maybe that's all you really need . . . maybe that's what I'm missing.
For the past month, St. Ignatius has been doing some major renovations in their church - new pews, new carpeting, and something about a large stained glass window. As a result, the church has been unavailable for mass, and all weekday and weekend masses are being celebrated in the St. Ignatius Community Center, what we common west-siders call "the gym," as well as in the Hilvert Center, the largest of the parish's meeting rooms. Now, I've never wanted to attend mass in any gym, especially on Christmas Eve and Easter, something St. I's traditionally offers at their more popular masses on those days, but I've also joked about it enough to know that should it be offered any other time, I just might have to experience it for myself. Ask and ye shall receive. I'm there.
Although I was particularly looking forward to mass at center court, it has to wait until next week. Due to scheduling constraints, this week, my daughter and I attended Sunday morning mass in the Hilvert Center. Although it bore a strange resemblance to other churches I've visited in recent weeks - who shall remain nameless - I have to say it actually wasn't half bad. Of course, the restrooms prominently located off to the side were a novel and unfortunate distraction. No surprise that every little boy and every pregnant woman in attendance had to make use of the facilities. There was also something comical about an entrance procession arriving through a virtual sea of metal folding chairs, rows and rows of metal folding chairs. Well, at least they started out in rows. By the end of mass, things were a bit . . . skewed. Can you hear the classic grating of metal chair legs on a tile floor? Those folding chairs really stole the show. Everything else seemed rather forced. Someone had hung a crucifix behind the "altar" which, as everyone could tell, was really a folding banquet table, and a few candles were lit. A small group of women whom we fondly refer to as "The Birds" provided musical leadership, so in the big picture, I suppose it sufficed. After all, what more do you really need? Well, apparently, you do need something more because, although we had gone through the motions in the Hilvert Center, my daughter and I both came home with the feeling that we still hadn't actually gone to mass.
I have to hand it to the St. Ignatius crowd though. They're a faithful bunch. Although our family attended the 10:15 mass on a fairly regular basis when the kids were younger, it had been more than a few years since I last made it to the 10:15. Amazingly - or not so amazingly - many of the same people are still showing up like clockwork. You could probably tell St. I's parishioners that mass would be celebrated in the frozen food aisle of Kroger's next week, and they would still show up in droves, singing their hearts out and socializing like there was no tomorrow. Gotta love that St. I's spirit. Maybe that's all you really need . . . maybe that's what I'm missing.
ATTENDANCE: Comfortably full
DURATION: 55 minutes
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