Today we went out to Jersey (NEW Jersey for all of you non-NYers) for my cousin/Godson’s engagement party. It was oh, let’s say a bit over an hour away. Except that any time you drive into Jersey, you may as well just double the travel time (which is one of the reasons I hate Jersey).
Keep in mind that the party started at 2 p.m. today and Stephen has to leave at 4 a.m. tomorrow (hmmm…. it’s practically tomorrow, isn’t it?). Therefore,we needed to get to Mass tonight. We couldn’t go to our parish because that would mean we’d be leaving the party at 3. Instead, we decided to go to a Church near my cousin’s fiancé’s house out in Jersey. That way we could go to Mass together one last time and Steve wouldn’t need to worry about it tomorrow morning. Plus, since we’ll probably be up rather late tonight until he’s all set and leaves, we can sleep in.
Now let me just state from the onset that I am not a fanatical Catholic. Trust me, I met some of them. They think they are holier than the pope. They think the Mass should be in Latin, women should wear dresses all the time, any music other than Gregorian chant is evil. I am nowhere near that side. I do, however, expect that Churches look a certain way & that the Mass is liturgically correct.
We pulled up to this Church in Jersey and Steve says, “Oh, look! It’s a hunting lodge!” He was right. It did look like a hunting lodge. Then we figure okay, we’re parked in the back so we logically think the entrance is towards the front. Nope. Apparently there is no entrance in the front. We walked around the entire Church in 402 degree heat, praying that once we do get in, it’s air conditioned.
Now here’s what I didn’t like about the Church. There was no crucifix over the altar. There wasn’t even a cross. There was a stone wall with an outline of the Risen Christ. The kids said it looked like the sort of sketch police do at a crime scene.
Next we tried to find the tabernacle. There is supposed to be a red candle by it. No red candle in sight. Nothing. After communion, I watched to see where they walked & it looked like a closet. I whispered to Steve, “They just put Jesus in a closet!”
The Mass itself… well I told Steve that his last Mass in the US was like this to show him how not to do a Mass. Let’s keep in mind that priests take a vow of obedience to the bishop and the bishop answers to the pope. Now Mass is to be conducted in a very specific manner. If you don’t do it the way you’re supposed to, you are guilty of disobedience. The biggest sin is changing the words of the consecration (when we believe the bread & wine is turned into the Body & Blood of Christ). But you do not change other words around, either. You stick to the book. This priest didn’t.
Another thing I don’t like is the whole hand holding thing during the Our Father. Now if you like that sort of thing, I don’t have a problem with it. Just don’t force me to do it. Stephen, being the clown he is, grabbed my hand. I got him back, though. I squeezed his hand. Ha! That’ll teach him! But what I found really strange was the fact that the priest & the deacon on the altar next to the priest were also holding hands.
Alright, I need to get off here and nag my son to get his carry on packed so he can get over to the seminary where they will be leaving from in uh… 4 hours!!
All things considered, I am pretty calm because I know I will get to see him one more time before he leaves for Rome.
