Return to Religious Roots
Today I went to mass at my childhood church. I have been trying to get Mom to go with me for the longest time. She always declines, so I decided today to go alone after setting out for a morning run. The last time I went to this church was around the three years ago. Prior to that visit, about five years had gone by without a visit to St. Hubert’s. It soothed my soul to immerse myself in the familiarity of my faith. It is always a release to enter a house of worship where I can sit down and converse with God. I particularly enjoy this experience when alone and where I am not recognized as a parishioner. Before entering church I figured I would see several people from years past and would end up conversing with them afterward. Surprisingly, I did not and I am not even sure if the four women I knew (who have been apart of the congregation prior to and since its conception in 1994) even remembered or recognized me (perhaps their vision might be failing :P). The strange thing is that as I walked in some people sitting outside on a bench said, “There really are new people here!” I nearly laughed. If they only knew I attended mass since infancy, took catechism, received my first holy communion, served as an altar girl and prepared for confirmation as a member of this congregation. Thoughts of times gone by occasionally flashed through my mind and I began to think about how much this little church has changed and grown over the years.
I was surprised to see what I’m assuming was a deacon serving as the altar “boy” (this was the first time I saw a grown man perform this function at our church). It was also amusing for me to observe the change in demographics; there appeared to be growth in young families, teenagers and Hispanics and a decrease in elderly members of the population. Many people I grew up going to church with have either moved away, started going to other churches or have become lackadaisical about attending (I have done all three of the above). I also enjoyed listening to a choir radically different from the one I heard growing up. I remember hearing very heavy and stoic religious music over the years. The new group plays tunes with acoustic, tropical and Latin influences. It makes the word alegre come to mind.
Overall, it was a pleasant experience returning to my religious roots. I was glad to be able to get in and out of church without being bombarded with questions about my mother, life, relationships, future, etc. After all, that is what church is all about; it is a place to externalize troubles and concerns. It is also a house where one can give thanks to the Creator for life’s blessings. It is not and should not be a place to judge nor be judged.
I was surprised to see what I’m assuming was a deacon serving as the altar “boy” (this was the first time I saw a grown man perform this function at our church). It was also amusing for me to observe the change in demographics; there appeared to be growth in young families, teenagers and Hispanics and a decrease in elderly members of the population. Many people I grew up going to church with have either moved away, started going to other churches or have become lackadaisical about attending (I have done all three of the above). I also enjoyed listening to a choir radically different from the one I heard growing up. I remember hearing very heavy and stoic religious music over the years. The new group plays tunes with acoustic, tropical and Latin influences. It makes the word alegre come to mind.
Overall, it was a pleasant experience returning to my religious roots. I was glad to be able to get in and out of church without being bombarded with questions about my mother, life, relationships, future, etc. After all, that is what church is all about; it is a place to externalize troubles and concerns. It is also a house where one can give thanks to the Creator for life’s blessings. It is not and should not be a place to judge nor be judged.