We found St. John with no problem but only because of its sign. Take a gander at Ansel Adam's photo up yonder. Seriously, does this look like a Catholic church to you? And is it just me, or is there a jack o'lantern face at the top of that wall? Finding the front door would have been equally as challenging but was accomplished uneventfully via the "Follow the Regulars" rule.
Truthfully, being in the 'burbs and all, I didn't really expect a lot, so I wasn't disappointed in what I found at St. John. There was a lot of St. Vincent (Kenwood) here, courtesy of the stained glass windows of red, orange, and yellow hues flanking the altar. Wood paneled walls concealed an unusually large number of confessionals (What happens in Deer Park stays in Deer Park?), and a semi-circular arrangement of pews hearkened memories of any number of churches I've been to. Speaking of said pews, a quick interjection: I don't like open-backed pews, which these were. There's something too . . . "park bench" about them, something too . . . "tent revival."
Music was a mixed blessing. Two young girls "led" the singing, although their whispered vocals didn't really get 'r done. On the plus side, a trumpeter had me from the get-go. He was excellent and alone made the visit worthwhile . I was most troubled by the servers, two grown men. One of them was sporting gym shoes and bare legs, i.e. he was wearing shorts under his alb. A grown man. When sitting next to the servers' table, he leaned on it like he was sitting at the kitchen table, draped all over it. A grown man. Worst of all, while the celebrating priest was delivering his homily, this GROWN MAN, seated behind the priest in view of the entire church, took the opportunity to peruse the First Communion program that had been distributed to everyone. I. Couldn't. Believe it.
Speaking of First Communion, it's that time of year, so it was no surprise when my daughter and I walked into St. John's only to find just that - a small group, four girls and two boys, dressed to the nines, ready to receive Jesus for the first time. They were put through their paces via a steady stream of somewhat painful participation on their part - the reading of the petitions, the offertory procession, and an uncomfortable performance on the steps of the altar as they struggled to make it through all of the verses of "Let Us Be Bread." At the end of the mass, they also managed to combine their First Communion celebration with a mini-May Crowning as each child placed flowers before a statue of Mary. It was a nice gesture, albeit a rather comical one when the woman in charge brought out the statue - dangling it at arm's length, carrying it by the head. Come on, lady, it's the Blessed Mother.
There was a lot that was awkward at St. John, including several moments in the mass itself. After the Lamb of God, part of the congregation was kneeling, part was standing, and a few were sitting. The same thing happened during the distribution of communion. The final blessing included a prayer sung by the priest and repeated by a fraction of the congregation. Hands were raised, not in the "one-hand-palm-extended" style, but in a two-handed "don't-look-at-me-I-didn't-do-it" style. Granted, there may have been a number of guests in attendance for the First Communion celebration, visitors like myself who weren't familiar with the St. John routine. I'm just not sure there was a routine.
ATTENDANCE: About half full
DURATION: One hour and ten minutes
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