(no subject)
We went to visit my in-laws last weekend. It was nice for many reasons, including that we got to go to Divine Liturgy with my mother-in-law. Divine Liturgy is at one in the same time so heavenly and so human. Perhaps I have an easier time describing the Latin liturgy because of my familiarity with it, but describing the Liturgy of St. Basil (and the Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom, for that matter) is very difficult.
I am convinced that the best liturgies are the ones in which everyone, young and old, learned and illiterate, and the rest of it can participate. In fact, I would propose the "Toddler Test" for liturgies aimed for the entire congregation. (If the toddler does not have to be taken out more than 2x, the liturgy passes.) The Divine Liturgy certainly passes that test. John gave the large, decorated Book of the Gospels an audible kiss when Father Andrew brought it around and he really got into prostrating himself in the aisle during certain parts of the Liturgy. He really seemed enthralled and has been asking to go to "Jesus' house" ever since. Despite being at peace with my Latin heritage, I'm a little sad that we can't take him to Divine Liturgy every Sunday.
The one thing that did not pass the Toddler Test was the sermon. Now, it's true that the Ukrainians have a new patriarch -and this is something to be excited about if you're Ukrainian Greek Catholic- but Father Kuzma had a terminal case of sermonitis. Just when John was about to lose it, a blessed event happened: Joey peed. I turned to my husband and whispered that I was going to go change Joey's diaper and I was taking John with me. I handed John the large orange Clinique purse that serves as our diaper bag and picked up Joey. When I got to the back of the church, I looked to see if John had followed me, and he was following slowly, with an air of importance about him. Plenty of people were watching him, too, since Father had started to lose his audience.
We took our time changing the diaper in the cramped ladies room. Five or ten minutes later, we were finally ready to leave and process back in, me with the baby and John with the diaper bag. Father Kuzma was still talking about the new patriarch. After a while, John decided to practice prostrating himself in the aisle, which his father felt was unacceptable, so they went to the cry room. I spent a few more minutes trying to figure out whether my child had suddenly developed far more clarity in his speech before I succumbed to a coughing fit and had other things to think about. Finally Father decided to call it quits and the liturgy continued. John returned and went back to being a model little Catholic boy. My husband suggests that maybe, just maybe, the Diaper Procession should become a standard part of Divine Liturgy, but I think it may take a couple hundred years to be accepted.
I am convinced that the best liturgies are the ones in which everyone, young and old, learned and illiterate, and the rest of it can participate. In fact, I would propose the "Toddler Test" for liturgies aimed for the entire congregation. (If the toddler does not have to be taken out more than 2x, the liturgy passes.) The Divine Liturgy certainly passes that test. John gave the large, decorated Book of the Gospels an audible kiss when Father Andrew brought it around and he really got into prostrating himself in the aisle during certain parts of the Liturgy. He really seemed enthralled and has been asking to go to "Jesus' house" ever since. Despite being at peace with my Latin heritage, I'm a little sad that we can't take him to Divine Liturgy every Sunday.
The one thing that did not pass the Toddler Test was the sermon. Now, it's true that the Ukrainians have a new patriarch -and this is something to be excited about if you're Ukrainian Greek Catholic- but Father Kuzma had a terminal case of sermonitis. Just when John was about to lose it, a blessed event happened: Joey peed. I turned to my husband and whispered that I was going to go change Joey's diaper and I was taking John with me. I handed John the large orange Clinique purse that serves as our diaper bag and picked up Joey. When I got to the back of the church, I looked to see if John had followed me, and he was following slowly, with an air of importance about him. Plenty of people were watching him, too, since Father had started to lose his audience.
We took our time changing the diaper in the cramped ladies room. Five or ten minutes later, we were finally ready to leave and process back in, me with the baby and John with the diaper bag. Father Kuzma was still talking about the new patriarch. After a while, John decided to practice prostrating himself in the aisle, which his father felt was unacceptable, so they went to the cry room. I spent a few more minutes trying to figure out whether my child had suddenly developed far more clarity in his speech before I succumbed to a coughing fit and had other things to think about. Finally Father decided to call it quits and the liturgy continued. John returned and went back to being a model little Catholic boy. My husband suggests that maybe, just maybe, the Diaper Procession should become a standard part of Divine Liturgy, but I think it may take a couple hundred years to be accepted.