A Different Kind of Piety


Last Thursday, I went to the Newman Center with my friend Lisa, and visited a noon day mass. Now, for those of you who don't know, the Newman Center is the Roman Catholic college campus ministry. There was a Newman center at the University I attended and I remember visiting once on a Sunday morning. I thought I was so "enlightened" then, to go in there a criticize everything...Oh, the arrogance of my youth.

I want to avoid that, this time around.

One of my best friends was Roman Catholic for a long time, and it has formed her in very very good ways. Yes, to the apostolic succession. Yes to their Eucharistic theology...so much good there. Sometimes I wonder why she bothered becoming Orthodox.

Coming from a background of Byzantine worship, now, for the past nine years, a few things struck me as so very different that I mistakenly said: "It felt protestant to me." Diarrhea of the mouth, no doubt. Upon reflection, that comment missed the mark and wasn't even what I meant. Just because my experience tends to categorize a dirth of icons, and folding chairs with protestant worship, does not make it so.

There was a chapel on the left as we entered the building. I only peeked in through the window. A byzantine icon of the Theotokos and Jesus graced the wall. My eyes gravitated towards that bit of familiarity. And of course the tabernacle containing the body and blood. I wanted to go in there and make some prostrations, say some prayers, but I was a stranger, a guest, and had neither the courage, nor the confidence that I wouldn't be somehow "showing off"...doing it "my way", so I did not enter the chapel of perpetual adoration. Next time, I want to go in there quietly. Perhaps sit and pray for a time.

Lisa showed me some of the old things in the nave. We went up to look at a very old crucifix behind the altar. There were chairs back there, too, as the altar table was out in the middle, sort of surrounded by a chairs in a circular pattern. It felt very odd to me to walk past that table, and up to look at the cross on the back wall. Space and how it was used was different, unfamiliar. I decided to go with the flow. Fr. Justin explained later that it's a theological emphasis on the gathering of the people of God around the Eucharist. Ok. Orthodox worship space emphasized the Kingdom of Heaven touching earth in the Eucharist. Ok. Space is theological. Different emphasis within the same larger framework.

The place where the noon time mass was held was off from the main worship space in a side wing, near the very old and beautifully carved stone baptismal font. I dipped my hands in the water and crossed myself, wondering if anyone noticed that I was doing it "backwards".

After a couple of minutes of sitting with what felt to me like nothing to gaze upon, a priest came out, garbed in a white robe with a plain green stole. I would have loved to ask him about his vestments. Of course the white robe was familiar, and I assume the stole is the western version of the phelonion.

With less ado and pageantry than I thought humanly possible, the worship proceeded. It was nice to sing an old song that I knew from my childhood, and to meditate on the words of Scripture: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God..." I remembered the time that the songwriter of that song visited our house in Switzerland. I didn't need the hymnal because I knew it by heart. Then, we stood to pray and I dearly felt the lack of icons to my wandering mind. Very short litany. But a good litany. Followed by a gospel reading. It happened to be the same gospel reading that we'd heard on Sunday morning. I wondered how the two lectionarys ultimately compared, in what was read when as it compared to the cycles of the Church calendar.

Everything was very short, but much of it nonetheless familiar. A different kind of piety. I noticed that when going up to receive Eucharist, the partakers would hold their hands out, cupped. The way the Orthodox do to receive a blessing. And those who went up to receive a blessing crossed their hand over their chests, the way we do when receiving the eucharist. The difference, I presume, is pactical: Leavened bread cut into pieces and put into the cup, spooned into our mouths, versus unleavened bread broken up into pieces and given into the worshiper's hands, followed by a sip from the chalice. Interesting.

So, there was much much less pageantry and much shorter prayers, but it was a mass that enables people to partake of the body and blood of our Lord every single day of the week. Wow. Eucharist every day. That would be something! I guess it happens in Orthodox monasteries, but in the full fledged hour-plus long version of St. John Chrysostom's Divine Liturgy. That'd be a bit much for a lay person to do every day.

So this, it was nice. It felt light and airy, much like the building itself. Light and airy in a good, ethereal sort of way. People gather to receive Christ. It was good.

I pray for an end to schism.

Comments

Meg said…
Mass is possible every single day because Roman priests are celibate. An Orthodox priest may not have relations with his wife the evening before he serves a Liturgy, so our priests don't serve Liturgy daily. If you wanted a daily Liturgy, your best bet would be to move near a monastery, where such things are possible, their priests also being celibate.

All things considered, I'd rather have married priests and Liturgy once a week than have to return to dealing with my priest's sexual hangups because he's celibate.
Mimi said…
Beautiful reflections, I come from a Catholic background so I can picture the Mass very well.

I visited a Mission recently that worships in a Newman Center - I didn't know the history, thank you!
Anonymous said…
I, too, attended the noon mass yesterday at the downtown cathedral. And, yes, a different kind of piety, but meaningful nonetheless. It was nice to hear the organ and sing a few songs I knew. But most importantly for me, the homily addressed the very questions and concerns I voiced to my hubby in the car as we traveled to the church. It has been quite a while since something like that happened to me. And I needed it badly. Who would have suspected God would minister to me personally in a Catholic Church? LOL!
Alana said…
One of the best books I read while I was still single and celibate was a book by a Roman Catholic priest called _Being Sexual and Celibate_. I think the authors name is Keith Moore, but I'm not sure any longer. It's been a long time ago.

I'd forgotten that that's the reason the OC priests don't do Eucharist every day, but it makes sense. On that score a lay person who is married would not be taking Eucharist every day, either, since it's not just the priest who fast, KWIM?
elizabeth said…
thank you for this thoughtful post. it resonated with me! you have a beautiful way with words.
Alana said…
I just remembered the author of that book: Keith Clark. He's a capuchin monk/priest.
Anonymous said…
Your reflections reminded me of an experience eons ago--when I spent a summer with a CPE group. A Catholic nun and I were the only women. About half way through the summer she invited me and my husband (both protestants) to a mid-week Mass--not only to observe but to participate. She had arranged it with the priest. Very very meaningful, humbling, edifying.
Anonymous said…
I pray for a unified Body of Christ as well, Alana. I'll be honest in saying sometimes I wish I'd converted to RC rather than Orthodox. I am terribly conflicted about this matter right now. I never would have anticipated that.

That said. I love the Divine Liturgy. It is a shame that this conflict in me exists, as we should all be one as Jesus prayed for us to be. I am also conflicted by my background as a Protestant. I still feel far connected to those traditions than perhaps I should. And if I had my druthers, I'd take communion wherever it's offered, and whenever! But I'm just a fool. What do I know?

Pray for me.
Anonymous said…
Going to mass with you at NC and vespers with you at St. Athanasius made my heart yearn for healing even more.

Bless you, sis and friend!www.