Those of you who are also Catholic will follow this post quite well. Even if you are not, you may have been to a Mass before for whatever reason. Catholicism is highly ritualistic. Throughout the world, Catholic masses are essentially the same as far as liturgy goes. I've never gone to church in another country before, so I didn't quite know what to expect. I'm sure many of you wouldn't know either. Join with me as I walk you through my first experience!
First of all, I should start by saying that while I mentioned the ritualistic nature, this is definitely not to say that EVERYTHING was the same. In fact, beyond the concept of listening to a whole service in Italian, there were a few moments when I had no clue what was happening.
I decided to go to mass at the Duomo (Cathedral of San Lorenzo). One reason for this was simply convenience. The church is a thirty second walk from Umbra. Also, they have a 6pm mass, which is perfect when I come back from traveling.
I wore moderately dressy clothes my first time, as I wasn't sure how strictly Italians adhere to the "dress nice for church" idea. Apparently, they adhere to it just as much as Cape Codders. As in, not a whole lot. (Mom, Joey and I joke that we can actually pick out the tourists based on which couples have their kids in matching sundresses). I mean, everyone looks nice in Italy, but there are definitely the teenagers in jeans. Good to know that I won't feel badly if I'm rushing off a train to make it in time.
Anyway, so mass starts and I don't recognize any of the hymns, but they played guitar and I loved it. The first interesting part came when the priest SANG the entire gospel reading! It was talent, I don't know how he did it because the musicians were playing the music he was singing to. They must rehearse or something. I don't know if this makes sense, but imagine reading a paragraph but having to sing it out instead of normally reading it. That's what he was doing!
After understanding a surprisingly substantial portion of the ten minute long sermon (I picked out some key phrases, like "blessings of living fully"), it was on to the eucharist portion of the mass. While sitting during the offertory, I suddenly panicked when I realized a huge oversight on my part: I had not looked up how to say simple religious phrases in Italian, namely, "Peace be with you." (When shaking hands with others at the sign of peace). I compensated by listening to what everyone else said when it first started, and then saying it softly so hopefully they understood! I'm hoping that giving my best smile was enough (although I probably screamed American after that). Luckily, "Amen" is the same in English and Italian. So I was safe there.
In the end, I understood a lot. It was incredible, just looking up at the ceiling and realizing that I am sitting in a church built in the 14th century. How many people from all walks of life have sat in my pew? How many of them have looked at the same ceiling covered in beautiful paintings? The remains of a few popes are actually buried at this particular church, AND they have what they believe is Mary's wedding ring. Wow. I get to go here?
Being in a different country is actually increasing my faith extensively. God really is God, no matter where I am. Sometimes, I struggle with this idea a bit for whatever reason. I "feel" differently when I'm in one place or another (see my last post). I definitely miss fully comprehending a sermon, or Sundays at Christ the King on Cape Cod. But in the end, everyone in the cathedral was praying to the same God. Language doesn't matter. God speaks every language.
No comments:
Post a Comment