Holy Mother's Day, Batman!
Since it's Mother's Day, I went to church with my mother. She was a bit addled. Last night she told me that the service started at 10:15. It seemed a bit early, but I figured that it was her church, so she knew when it started. I arrived at 10, assuming that on Mother's Day there would be a crowd. The church was pretty much empty. So I called Momma. She said, "It starts at 9:45 and I'm running late. Sit with your sister." When I pointed out that it was well past 9:45 and no one was there, we finally figured out that the service began at 10:45.
If I had known that it wouldn't start until 10:45, I'd have gone to mass at my church and then gone to church with Momma.
But I was already at her church and by the time I got to the Catholic church, mass would be almost over, anyway, so I settled in to wait.
I picked up a bulletin so I could check the Bible verses for the day. Read them. checked the songs. I actually knew one of them. (I can't tell you how long it's been since I went to church with Momma and they sang any songs I knew. I was expecting "Oh, For a Thousand Tongues to Sing" since it was Pentecost, but the one I knew was "What a Friend I Have in Jesus." They've replaced all of the old, traditional hymns with new songs that all sound alike, kind of like Air Supply songs back in the 1980s.)
Momma really was running late, but my sister and her family finally arrived. (I told my brother-in-law about my snowed-in dream, which pleased him. He said that he liked to play the hero, even if it was in a dream. He got a real kick out of me quoting him from the dream: "I flew helicopters in Viet Nam. Driving in the snow is no problem. It's not like the snowflakes are going to explode.")
Then church started. This is the Methodist church I grew up in before I converted to Catholicism. It used to be a very formal, traditional Methodist church, so much so that my Baptist uncle called it "Catholic Light" because he felt it was so much like a mass. I swear to you, I do not feel like I have been to church today. I am off on a rant, so be prepared.
First came the announcements. The assistant minister announced things for forever. It was like a Henry James novel. (And I like Henry James.) I swear to you, for every necessary word there were ten flowery adjectives/adverbs/descriptive phrases. I was exhausted before they even lit the candles.
The assistant minister also did the praying today. Again with the Henry James speech. And I don't know if he thought we might forget that prayers are speaking to God, but he kept repeating "Father God" at the beginning of every sentence. It was like Tourette's, only instead of cursing and saying inappropriate things he said, "Father God." My sister informed me that there is a member at the church who counts how many times this particular minister says, "Father God" each Sunday.
Then down drops a movie screen. It hangs right in front of the beautiful stained glass window -- one of the prettiest windows I have ever seen on a church that is under five-hundred years old. We get the words to a modern hymn displayed, but there are no notes. The only person who knows the song is the assistant minister, but a few people are mumbling the words tunelessly (since there are no notes displayed with the words). The organist stopped playing in the middle of the song because the minister kept saying, "Let's sing that part one more time," and she didn't have music that did that. He sang it all through about five times and then the service moved on to the children's sermon.
Now, I used to lead children's church when I went there. I was a volunteer. Now they have a children's minister who gets paid. Now, he had a week to prepare his children's sermon. It was disorganized and didn't seem to have any point. I swear to you, I could have stood up there and ad libbed something better. But it was sweet when they gave the kids flowers to give to their moms. They were absolutely adorable carrying the carnations back to their moms. (See, I can say something positive.)
Then we got to the sermon. There was, I kid you not, a power-point presentation to go with the sermon. But that isn't the worst thing. The verses the minister chose? Luke 14:25-27. In case you don't know, verse 26 is Jesus speaking and he says, "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sister, yes, even life itself, cannot be my disciple." (Hate is a poor translation. A better one would be "love less" -- as in saying that people should love God more than their families, not that people should hate their families.) Still, on Mother's Day, a verse about hating your mother (because I can guarantee you that not everyone knows about the translation).
Then we sang a couple more songs with no tune from the movie screen, sat through another Tourette's prayer, and thankfully, the service was over. I felt like I'd been to a business meeting.
This was on the heels of the last two Sundays, where I have been to two other Methodist churches with family members (a niece's baptism last Sunday and visiting another niece the week before). At least I knew the songs last week (even though it was the alternative service -- it was more traditional than the "traditional" service this week). And I liked the music the week before, which was really an alternative service -- right down to the emo hymns. (Although oddly, both sermons were very much a like: give us some money. Disturbingly so.)
But the last two weeks, I also got to go to mass, so I felt like I'd been to church. And this is disturbing to me, since it was the topic of discussion at lunch a couple of weeks ago -- not just with my family, but with about eight families who attend that church. They feel like all of the services are turning into alternative services.
Now, I know that there are people out there who find God in different ways. I'm all for that. But with the emphasis on "alternative" worship, what about people who find God through a more traditional service? I mean, at my church, there are five masses. One is very formal. One is alternative. One is kind of "nuns with guitars" folky and the other two are fairly traditional, but not as formal. Something for everyone. If the Catholic church can manage that with the restrictions of a mass, I would think any church could offer the same choice.
Anyway, I am frustrated today.
But I enjoyed spending time with my mother. We went to brunch. I walked down the stairs in front of her in case she fell. It's not like I could catch her, but I could cushion her fall. She had a good Mother's Day. At least she said so.