11:00 Sunday morning mass, St. Vincent Ferrer. Dodged a bullet on this one. Earlier this week, after perusing The List several times, I finally settled on St. Vincent Ferrer in Kenwood for mass this weekend, aiming for either 10:30 or noon on Sunday. However, by some miracle, I also visited St. Vincent's website only to discover that, at some point between my initial compilation of The List and, well, this weekend, the mass times at St. Vincent had changed. My best bet was now an 11:00 Sunday morning mass. Had I left for a 10:30 mass, I would have simply had time to kill, but had I left for a noon mass? Liturgical suicide. Whew. Ironically, 11:00 was a perfect compromise for my Sunday schedule.
St. Vincent Church immediately reminded me of St. Ignatius . . . with a few notable differences. Both feature pews in a semi-circle around the altar. St. Vincent, however, has "theater seating" - the back half of the church gradually slopes down towards the sanctuary. Only midway to the front of the church do things level out. I say "gradually slopes," but in reality, it was a pretty good grade, quite noticeable just standing in place in one of those back rows, and let me say, as someone who's had a bum foot for a few weeks, it wasn't particularly enjoyable. I wondered about the back-row seniors making the long uphill trek to return to their seats after receiving communion or, even more, the seniors on wheels, coasting - and, inevitably, picking up speed - downhill to the front of the church.
St. Vincent's sanctuary very closely resembles that of St. I's - same altar, same steps leading up to the altar, same stained glass windows flanking either side of the altar, although St. Vincent's windows are of a much more vibrant Crayola medley of colors. No wagon wheel in Kenwood - Jesus is still center stage, but unlike St. I's large statues of Mary and Joseph, St. Vincent has very small statues of each of the two, both fairly removed and off to either side. Poor Joseph is practically hidden behind the organ. There is a nice flowing fountain at the front of St. Vincent, but with the hum of activity in the church, I couldn't actually hear the flowing water, something I always think is nice.
Probably, the most notable part of St. Vincent Church is its ceiling. Long wooden beams vertically span the depth of the church, creating "sun rays" originating from just above the crucifix. Kind of a cool concept, I guess, but also kind of cheesy . . . and dated. On the plus side, with a permanent fixture like that, I don't expect they'll be moving their crucifix any time soon.
Mass was unfortunately bland. The celebrating priest spoke in a monotonic drone that never wavered. Music, provided by three adult men and three adult women, was nothing special, and get this: A small digital sign above the music group displayed the number of the current hymn being sung in bright. red. lights. Now really, at what point did someone decide that the rack with the little sliding numbers wasn't good enough and had to be taken into the electronic age? It was . . . embarrassing.
The congregation was made up of "bookends" - senior couples and families with young children, nothing in-between. Fortunately, it was the kids who really livened things up this Sunday morning. From the little girl in front of us with a pink pacifier the size of her face and matching pink hair bow the size of her head to the little girl second row from the front eating her entire lunch - crackers, juice box, the works - to, best of all, the handful of little boy behind me, it was Romper Room Live. Over the course of the mass, I caught the words "potty," "tickle tickle," and "tushy." My son and I almost lost it when we watched the powerhouse from behind us run up the aisle to exchange the sign of peace with a few random individuals. Guess the novelty of his red cowboy boots had worn off - he was barefoot.
ATTENDANCE: Almost full
DURATION: 55 minutes
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