Sunday, February 12, 2012
Rite of Passage
We moved to Mazatlán four years ago. Since that time, Danny and I have attended church every Sunday. Same church each week. Same Mass each week. Same people we see there each week. Four years. I love Sunday Mass. Love to sing. Love communal prayer. Love the people we celebrate with each week.
Now, it's a Catholic church, and anyone who knows Catholicism will tell you that good Catholics don't fraternize at Sunday services (written tongue in cheek, but true). You come, you pray, you leave. No small talk. The priests basically have to order us to shake hands with the person beside us in the pew.
But this was not "my" Mass. It was the evening Mass, which I rarely attend. It was a welcome invitation, for sure. Now, in the parish's defense, I have made no effort to get involved in the church outside of Sunday Mass. My schedule right now doesn't allow it, my preferences right now aren't prioritizing it. There are people who attend our Mass that I know outside of church. They of course greet us.
Well, unwittingly this am, as Danny and I knelt in prayer before the service started, the altar guild/greeter lady at OUR service, our church, came to our pew, and asked us if we would be so kind as to take up the gifts! "Would you take up the wine, and your Mami take up the bread," she asked Danny.
Wow! How cool is that!
Four years, people, but we feel included. We have received our rite of passage.
I will say I attended church in Tokyo and in the US longer than we've been here, and was never ad-hoc included in this way.
Now the Episcopal Church, where Danny used to serve Mass every Sunday morning, and I was the greeter, that's a different story... :)