I lost my only child status.
And she hasn't shut her mouth since. Happy Birthday Baby Sis! I'm going to call her later and sing badly at her....
The picture is not actually my sister. I stole it from Holly, who borrowed it from Umm Adam. :)
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Raised 'Slightly Catholic'
When we were doing the introductions at the beginning of RCIA, we were asked to give a short biography, and our faith background. I was raised Missouri Synod Lutheran, and I said that, but I also followed it up by saying that I was beginning to suspect I'd been raised 'slightly Catholic'. And I just recently re-thought about that, and how I believe it's really true, however it happened. I'm going to explain, and some of it may not make sense, but I want to get it out here on 'paper'.
I am the first of five grandchildren, born to my grandparents' only daughter. My mother has two daughters, myself and Baby Sis. My UncleB has one son, and UncleK has two. My grandfather loved children, and was thrilled with the prospect of me. :) Going off of the first sonogram, I was supposed to be named after him, Joseph. On the second sonogram, the umbilical cord had shifted. I became Josephine. :) Somewhere between that point and my actual birth, my mother changed her mind, and I became Amber.
This is the passage that was on my baptismal cake: Ezekiel 1:4 - And I saw, and behold a whirlwind came out of the north: and a great cloud, and a fire infolding it, and brightness was about it: and out of the midst thereof, that is, out of the midst of the fire, as it were the resemblance of amber. And, clearly, not the whole quote, it wouldn't have fit on the cake, but the last half, starting at 'and out of the midst thereof'.
Mom claims this is where she got my name, and I'll just choose to believe her. However, my grandfather still would call me Amberina Josephina. Which is not, by the way, my middle name, just his nickname for me, which no one else is allowed to use. Moving on...
My mothers parents, who did a lot of work helping to raise me and my sister when she came along, were/are devout Lutherans. What do you do on Sundays? You go to church. There are no other options, barring illness. My adopted-father's mother was a devout Catholic. We didn't see her as much, because her health was not so good that it permitted her to keep two young girls for extended periods of time. She had severe asthma, but she did what she could with us.
So, I either attended the Lutheran church, or went to the Catholic church, depending on who I was with on Sunday. And here's the thing- at the time, the services weren't that different! I was raised old school MS Lutheran, so there were kneelers, an altar rail for communion/blessing, everything. And the same at the Catholic church. So I just grew up assuming that they were just two different physical churches, but the same thing, at the core. Catholic grandma died when I was ten or so, and I was given (though I can't recall why at this point), one of her statues, some medals she had, and a little picture of the Virgin Mary that she kept in her car. I have carried these things around in my possession for sixteen years since I inherited them.
At my grandparents' house, in 'my room', there was always a picture hanging on the wall, of a woman hair covered, cradling a cross and a spray of roses. I always just assumed it was Mary, and never bothered to ask anyone. I inherited that picture when my grandfather died, and my grandmother moved into a smaller condo. I've carried her around for the past eight or nine years.
As I said, growing up, I attended either the Lutheran church, or a Catholic one. I assumed that all the churches were just like that.
If you had asked me, at any point in my childhood, who was the physical head of Christianity at that moment, (not that anyone would ask a kid a question like that), I would have told you the Pope. Keep in mind that my main religious formation was going on in the Lutheran church. I mean, who else was there? He was the only one I ever saw standing up for the faith, so dignified, so calm, so confident of the Truth he was teaching! I just believed that he was in charge of *all* the churches. After all, we were all Christian, weren't we? To be perfectly honest, even after I learned that wasn't, actually, so, I still sort of looked to the Pope. Again, who else was there?
I abandoned faith for a good, long while. I fell into paganism, heresy, a lot of stuff. But I was lead back out again, for which I am thankful.
I went to my mothers church, which is now Mennonite. She converted to marry step-dad, who is a wonderful man. I had, of course, by this point, learned the differences in Protestantism, Catholicism, etc. but I needed to figure it out for myself, and there was still something, in the back of my head, that told me that while the style of worship might be different, the theology would still be the same. Pft. That lasted until their second communion service. They hold communion once a month, they do not believe in the Real Presence, just like so many other Protestant denominations. I sat through a lecture about how it was the center of their worship, what brought them together, nothing more important, yadda. Then, the next month, they 'bumped' communion for a kids play. Yes, by all means, encourage the kids, but make the service a little longer and hold communion! If it's that important, people will hang in there for another ten freaking minutes! I know it's just bread and grape juice to them, but still, come on...
So I went back to the Lutheran church. Ah...well...I'm not really sure what happened in the intervening years, but they'd lost so much of what I remembered, it wasn't like the same church at all. And, and, so, transubstantiaion, consubstantiation. I was not raised to believe that the host went back to being bread! Once the Body of God, always the Body of God! So I went to the Catholic church. And there it was. Just the same, and it clicked. It still took me months to work around to the point where I knew I needed to convert, but get there I did. And after I'd made that decision, and told my family, I learned some things.
My grandfather had been raised Catholic. He left the Church because a priest that he went to for help told him that it was his fault his father was abusive. For this, though I know he died outside of full communion with the Church, I know that God's Mercy will prevail. He was a child, and he didn't know, and so much as I can, though it might be wrong, I blame that priest.
'Mary', from my childhood was St. Therese of Lisieux, and this icon had belong to my great-grandmother, who died when my grandfather was a child. She now hangs over my bed.
The statue I inherited? Who I, (very sorry for this), called 'Saint Whosit' for a number of years, because I assumed he was a saint and had no way of figuring out which one...is the Infant of Prague. The medals, are also both of the Infant of Prague. I wear one of them now at all times.
The picture of Mary from my grandmothers car? A green scapular. From catholicculture.org - The (green) scapular is reputed to have special efficacy in bringing people back to the Church and to the sacrament of penance even after many years of estrangement from their faith.
I keep the scapular at home, but I do carry a piece of blessed palm from last Easter Sunday in my car's visor.
I am the first of five grandchildren, born to my grandparents' only daughter. My mother has two daughters, myself and Baby Sis. My UncleB has one son, and UncleK has two. My grandfather loved children, and was thrilled with the prospect of me. :) Going off of the first sonogram, I was supposed to be named after him, Joseph. On the second sonogram, the umbilical cord had shifted. I became Josephine. :) Somewhere between that point and my actual birth, my mother changed her mind, and I became Amber.
This is the passage that was on my baptismal cake: Ezekiel 1:4 - And I saw, and behold a whirlwind came out of the north: and a great cloud, and a fire infolding it, and brightness was about it: and out of the midst thereof, that is, out of the midst of the fire, as it were the resemblance of amber. And, clearly, not the whole quote, it wouldn't have fit on the cake, but the last half, starting at 'and out of the midst thereof'.
Mom claims this is where she got my name, and I'll just choose to believe her. However, my grandfather still would call me Amberina Josephina. Which is not, by the way, my middle name, just his nickname for me, which no one else is allowed to use. Moving on...
My mothers parents, who did a lot of work helping to raise me and my sister when she came along, were/are devout Lutherans. What do you do on Sundays? You go to church. There are no other options, barring illness. My adopted-father's mother was a devout Catholic. We didn't see her as much, because her health was not so good that it permitted her to keep two young girls for extended periods of time. She had severe asthma, but she did what she could with us.
So, I either attended the Lutheran church, or went to the Catholic church, depending on who I was with on Sunday. And here's the thing- at the time, the services weren't that different! I was raised old school MS Lutheran, so there were kneelers, an altar rail for communion/blessing, everything. And the same at the Catholic church. So I just grew up assuming that they were just two different physical churches, but the same thing, at the core. Catholic grandma died when I was ten or so, and I was given (though I can't recall why at this point), one of her statues, some medals she had, and a little picture of the Virgin Mary that she kept in her car. I have carried these things around in my possession for sixteen years since I inherited them.
At my grandparents' house, in 'my room', there was always a picture hanging on the wall, of a woman hair covered, cradling a cross and a spray of roses. I always just assumed it was Mary, and never bothered to ask anyone. I inherited that picture when my grandfather died, and my grandmother moved into a smaller condo. I've carried her around for the past eight or nine years.
As I said, growing up, I attended either the Lutheran church, or a Catholic one. I assumed that all the churches were just like that.
If you had asked me, at any point in my childhood, who was the physical head of Christianity at that moment, (not that anyone would ask a kid a question like that), I would have told you the Pope. Keep in mind that my main religious formation was going on in the Lutheran church. I mean, who else was there? He was the only one I ever saw standing up for the faith, so dignified, so calm, so confident of the Truth he was teaching! I just believed that he was in charge of *all* the churches. After all, we were all Christian, weren't we? To be perfectly honest, even after I learned that wasn't, actually, so, I still sort of looked to the Pope. Again, who else was there?
I abandoned faith for a good, long while. I fell into paganism, heresy, a lot of stuff. But I was lead back out again, for which I am thankful.
I went to my mothers church, which is now Mennonite. She converted to marry step-dad, who is a wonderful man. I had, of course, by this point, learned the differences in Protestantism, Catholicism, etc. but I needed to figure it out for myself, and there was still something, in the back of my head, that told me that while the style of worship might be different, the theology would still be the same. Pft. That lasted until their second communion service. They hold communion once a month, they do not believe in the Real Presence, just like so many other Protestant denominations. I sat through a lecture about how it was the center of their worship, what brought them together, nothing more important, yadda. Then, the next month, they 'bumped' communion for a kids play. Yes, by all means, encourage the kids, but make the service a little longer and hold communion! If it's that important, people will hang in there for another ten freaking minutes! I know it's just bread and grape juice to them, but still, come on...
So I went back to the Lutheran church. Ah...well...I'm not really sure what happened in the intervening years, but they'd lost so much of what I remembered, it wasn't like the same church at all. And, and, so, transubstantiaion, consubstantiation. I was not raised to believe that the host went back to being bread! Once the Body of God, always the Body of God! So I went to the Catholic church. And there it was. Just the same, and it clicked. It still took me months to work around to the point where I knew I needed to convert, but get there I did. And after I'd made that decision, and told my family, I learned some things.
My grandfather had been raised Catholic. He left the Church because a priest that he went to for help told him that it was his fault his father was abusive. For this, though I know he died outside of full communion with the Church, I know that God's Mercy will prevail. He was a child, and he didn't know, and so much as I can, though it might be wrong, I blame that priest.
'Mary', from my childhood was St. Therese of Lisieux, and this icon had belong to my great-grandmother, who died when my grandfather was a child. She now hangs over my bed.
The statue I inherited? Who I, (very sorry for this), called 'Saint Whosit' for a number of years, because I assumed he was a saint and had no way of figuring out which one...is the Infant of Prague. The medals, are also both of the Infant of Prague. I wear one of them now at all times.
The picture of Mary from my grandmothers car? A green scapular. From catholicculture.org - The (green) scapular is reputed to have special efficacy in bringing people back to the Church and to the sacrament of penance even after many years of estrangement from their faith.
I keep the scapular at home, but I do carry a piece of blessed palm from last Easter Sunday in my car's visor.
And David Danced Before the Lord...
I'm a musical person. I can't sing on key, I've forgotten how to play the only instrument I ever learned. I come from a family of people who sing and play like they breathe. The gene skipped me. But I am musical in the sense that I love music. I always have music on, somehow. And at work, when there is no music? I hear it in my head, in the rhythm of the people around me.
I belive that music is one of the purest, original forms of worship. It's transcendent, something so beyond just the physical bodies we use, the instruments we create. The angels themselves sing in worship of God, so why shouldn't we? I sing in the Mass, but softly, so as not to bother the poor people standing within earshot.
2 Samuel 6:5 - Meanwhile, David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the Lord with all kinds of instruments made of fir wood, and with lyres, horns, tambourines, castanets, and cymbals.
2 Samuel 6:14-16: And David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, and David was wearing a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel were bringing up the ark of the Lord with shouting and the sound of the trumpet. Then it happened as the ark of the Lord came into the city of David that Michal the daughter of Saul looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.
Why did Michal despise David for his exuberant, joyous worship of his Lord? She thought it was undignified, beneath him as King. But God, clearly, accepted this worship. The Psalms were meant to be sung, chanted. We've been praising God in music since the beginning, so why stop now? Music is a gift from God, both the ability to create it, and the appreciation of it.
Some links:
Gregorian Chant - Salve Regina on YouTube. There's about a million others linked off of that one, and well, who doesn't love Gregorian Chants?
TransSiberian Orchestra's (and Metallica apparently) instrumental version of Carol of the Bells. Less traditional, more rocky, but I love the Carol of the Bells in all its forms!
Celtic Woman's more traditional version Carol of the Bells. There's an instrumental version out there done just with bells, but I can't find it on YouTube, and I'm still not home, with access to my personal collection.
Rufus Wainwright's Hallelujah - not a religious song, per se, but I love it anyway. It moves me.
I belive that music is one of the purest, original forms of worship. It's transcendent, something so beyond just the physical bodies we use, the instruments we create. The angels themselves sing in worship of God, so why shouldn't we? I sing in the Mass, but softly, so as not to bother the poor people standing within earshot.
2 Samuel 6:5 - Meanwhile, David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the Lord with all kinds of instruments made of fir wood, and with lyres, horns, tambourines, castanets, and cymbals.
2 Samuel 6:14-16: And David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, and David was wearing a linen ephod. So David and all the house of Israel were bringing up the ark of the Lord with shouting and the sound of the trumpet. Then it happened as the ark of the Lord came into the city of David that Michal the daughter of Saul looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the Lord; and she despised him in her heart.
Why did Michal despise David for his exuberant, joyous worship of his Lord? She thought it was undignified, beneath him as King. But God, clearly, accepted this worship. The Psalms were meant to be sung, chanted. We've been praising God in music since the beginning, so why stop now? Music is a gift from God, both the ability to create it, and the appreciation of it.
Some links:
Gregorian Chant - Salve Regina on YouTube. There's about a million others linked off of that one, and well, who doesn't love Gregorian Chants?
TransSiberian Orchestra's (and Metallica apparently) instrumental version of Carol of the Bells. Less traditional, more rocky, but I love the Carol of the Bells in all its forms!
Celtic Woman's more traditional version Carol of the Bells. There's an instrumental version out there done just with bells, but I can't find it on YouTube, and I'm still not home, with access to my personal collection.
Rufus Wainwright's Hallelujah - not a religious song, per se, but I love it anyway. It moves me.
The End of Advent and the Catechism
Advent, sadly, has ended. I say sadly because this is the first Advent that I have known what I am doing, felt the pull of faith in ways I haven't since I was a kid. I really set aside this time to focus on my faith, on God, and on what I am doing here.
I fasted, which as an aside, the Orthodox Church apparently also does during Advent. The fasting...I kept it a secret, except for here on the blog. The point of fasting is not so that everyone can see how holy you are (and if anyone who read this knew me in real life, they'd be on the floor herniating something at the thought of me being 'holy' like that). The point is to sacrifice to God, even if it's just a little something. To focus less on your body, and more on the spirit, which is the whole point of everything, isn't it. I believe this is a personal tradition that I will keep up.
I read religious, faith-filled books. I made my way through Catholicism for Dummies, the Shorter Summa, Rome Sweet Home, Hail, Holy Queen, Interview with an Exorcist (okay, that one not so lofty as the others, but it was interesting!), and the Compendium. I did not, as I suspected I wouldn't, finish the Catechism itself. That's all in four weeks. Plus, it goes without saying, the daily Bible readings.
I fasted, which as an aside, the Orthodox Church apparently also does during Advent. The fasting...I kept it a secret, except for here on the blog. The point of fasting is not so that everyone can see how holy you are (and if anyone who read this knew me in real life, they'd be on the floor herniating something at the thought of me being 'holy' like that). The point is to sacrifice to God, even if it's just a little something. To focus less on your body, and more on the spirit, which is the whole point of everything, isn't it. I believe this is a personal tradition that I will keep up.
I read religious, faith-filled books. I made my way through Catholicism for Dummies, the Shorter Summa, Rome Sweet Home, Hail, Holy Queen, Interview with an Exorcist (okay, that one not so lofty as the others, but it was interesting!), and the Compendium. I did not, as I suspected I wouldn't, finish the Catechism itself. That's all in four weeks. Plus, it goes without saying, the daily Bible readings.
Swimming, Modesty, and Personal Idols
"Ah, well, yes, sometimes I swim alone. It’s not a very safe thing to do though, so when I do that, I don’t swim laps, just sort of laze about, and I don’t do it for very long. I’ll mostly swim with female friends, or, I have one friend who doesn’t like to swim, but she likes to sit on the deck and read, so she can do that while I do some laps or something. And I don’t wear bikinis or two pieces. Just nice, solid one pieces. I’ve always been too afraid the bikini would…malfunction at an inopportune moment.
Swimming, like anything, can be immodest. I actually, when I began to care about that sort of thing again, really thought about it. I gave up the beach, unless I’m just walking on it, and then I’m dressed. I only swim in my own pool, not other peoples. I know I’ve got bushes and trees and lots and lots of space between me an my neighbors, most of the people I know, don’t. I’m staying a friends house right now, house sitting, and she has a pool, and a cement wall around it, but her neighbors are right next door, and I’m just not taking that chance. I don’t have mixed pool parties anymore, and when my parents do, I don’t participate, and I actually try to avoid going out there. And until the hedge grew tall enough, I went into the pool in a big nightshirt and put it back on before I climbed out, just in case. And I made myself a big terrycloth headscarf for the pool too."
The above is my description of how I try to keep modest while also enjoying swimming. This was from a conversation on Umm Adams blog. She made a post about something else entirely, but it had this picture of a woman in a hijab-compliant swim suit, and of course we all latched on to the unusual outfit to discuss.
I love to swim. I could swim before I could walk. Growing up in Florida, that's what smart parents do. They teach their children to swim, as a precaution, because we are, of course, surrounded by water. Before my health issues made it impossible, I swam competitively in junior high. I just love the water, and everything about it. At the time, when modesty became important to me, I made all these changes just to enable myself to continue to swim and not violate my new sense of modesty. But looking at it, it seems like a lot to do just to immerse myself in water. Just saying that, though, doesn't reflect my enjoyment, the pleasure I get from this simple act. But on reading someone else's blog, that I can't recall, they were speaking about idols.
I am the LORD your God: you shall not have strange Gods before me. - This is a traditional Catechetical formula of the first commandment. It is not, obviously, a direct quote from the Old Testament.
In RCIA, when we went through the Ten Commandments, 'strange gods' was explained as being 'idols'.
An 'idol', according to the dictionary is –noun
1. an image or other material object representing a deity to which religious worship is addressed.
2. Bible.
a. an image of a deity other than God.
b. the deity itself.
3. any person or thing regarded with blind admiration, adoration, or devotion
4. a mere image or semblance of something, visible but without substance, as a phantom.
5. a figment of the mind; fantasy.
6. a false conception or notion; fallacy.
The definition that we concerned ourselves with, mainly, was number 3. An idol is not just a false god, but anything that you place before God. This can be money, your job, family, a hobby, friends, anything. I know that I have many 'idols' in my life, and I am doing my best to turn away from them. It's simply hard, after a life time of it, to reorder your life. However, swimming is not something that ever occured to me as being one of my 'idols'.
But maybe it is. I love it, I've gone to great lengths to be able to keep doing it, despite what I've come to realize are problematic aspects of it. One of the women on Umm Adams blog, Emma, belongs to a conservative Mennonite church, which views swimming as immodest, and they simply don't do it. I see that it can be immodest, and I've done my best to curtail that, so much as is possible. But the question becomes, am I placing my desire to do a thing I love before my obediance to God? It's not as though I believe swimming is going to send me to hell, far from it. But swimming is maybe just a focal point for this general question in my life. What other things am I bending and twisting around to be able to keep in my life, when I might be better served to just cut them out all together?
If I became convinced today that God forbade swimming, would I be able to stop? Do I have the strength to obey like that, in all aspects of my life?
Swimming, like anything, can be immodest. I actually, when I began to care about that sort of thing again, really thought about it. I gave up the beach, unless I’m just walking on it, and then I’m dressed. I only swim in my own pool, not other peoples. I know I’ve got bushes and trees and lots and lots of space between me an my neighbors, most of the people I know, don’t. I’m staying a friends house right now, house sitting, and she has a pool, and a cement wall around it, but her neighbors are right next door, and I’m just not taking that chance. I don’t have mixed pool parties anymore, and when my parents do, I don’t participate, and I actually try to avoid going out there. And until the hedge grew tall enough, I went into the pool in a big nightshirt and put it back on before I climbed out, just in case. And I made myself a big terrycloth headscarf for the pool too."
The above is my description of how I try to keep modest while also enjoying swimming. This was from a conversation on Umm Adams blog. She made a post about something else entirely, but it had this picture of a woman in a hijab-compliant swim suit, and of course we all latched on to the unusual outfit to discuss.
I love to swim. I could swim before I could walk. Growing up in Florida, that's what smart parents do. They teach their children to swim, as a precaution, because we are, of course, surrounded by water. Before my health issues made it impossible, I swam competitively in junior high. I just love the water, and everything about it. At the time, when modesty became important to me, I made all these changes just to enable myself to continue to swim and not violate my new sense of modesty. But looking at it, it seems like a lot to do just to immerse myself in water. Just saying that, though, doesn't reflect my enjoyment, the pleasure I get from this simple act. But on reading someone else's blog, that I can't recall, they were speaking about idols.
I am the LORD your God: you shall not have strange Gods before me. - This is a traditional Catechetical formula of the first commandment. It is not, obviously, a direct quote from the Old Testament.
In RCIA, when we went through the Ten Commandments, 'strange gods' was explained as being 'idols'.
An 'idol', according to the dictionary is –noun
1. an image or other material object representing a deity to which religious worship is addressed.
2. Bible.
a. an image of a deity other than God.
b. the deity itself.
3. any person or thing regarded with blind admiration, adoration, or devotion
4. a mere image or semblance of something, visible but without substance, as a phantom.
5. a figment of the mind; fantasy.
6. a false conception or notion; fallacy.
The definition that we concerned ourselves with, mainly, was number 3. An idol is not just a false god, but anything that you place before God. This can be money, your job, family, a hobby, friends, anything. I know that I have many 'idols' in my life, and I am doing my best to turn away from them. It's simply hard, after a life time of it, to reorder your life. However, swimming is not something that ever occured to me as being one of my 'idols'.
But maybe it is. I love it, I've gone to great lengths to be able to keep doing it, despite what I've come to realize are problematic aspects of it. One of the women on Umm Adams blog, Emma, belongs to a conservative Mennonite church, which views swimming as immodest, and they simply don't do it. I see that it can be immodest, and I've done my best to curtail that, so much as is possible. But the question becomes, am I placing my desire to do a thing I love before my obediance to God? It's not as though I believe swimming is going to send me to hell, far from it. But swimming is maybe just a focal point for this general question in my life. What other things am I bending and twisting around to be able to keep in my life, when I might be better served to just cut them out all together?
If I became convinced today that God forbade swimming, would I be able to stop? Do I have the strength to obey like that, in all aspects of my life?
Friday, December 26, 2008
Midnight Mass
So, this is my year of conversion, and I'm going to be doing a lot of 'firsts'.
Christmas is a Holy Day of Obligation. Catholics are obligated to attend a mass on these days. To accommodate this, for ordinary days of obligation, most parishes will have multiple masses, where typically on a weekday they will just have a morning mass. For instance, my parish, has a daily mass at 8:30 am, Monday through Saturday. On Holy Days of Obligation, they hold mass at 7:30 am, 9:00 am, and 7 pm. This is to give people who work the chance to fulfill their obligation. The only exceptions to this, that I know of, are Christmas and Easter. Christmas they hold a children's mass at 5:30 pm Christmas Eve, which counts for the Christmas obligation, a Midnight Mass, a dawn mass, and then a mass during the day. On Easter they hold Easter Vigil on that Saturday, and that counts as fulfilling the obligation for Easter, though I know of many people who will attend Easter Vigil and then go to mass on Easter Sunday as well.
Why did I go to Midnight Mass, when technically I'm not yet obligated? I felt like it was something that I needed to do. Technically I'm not obligated to even go to Sunday masses yet, but I do. I need to be there, for myself, joined in worship, though I can't receive yet. Every Sunday, I go up in line, and I bow before my Lord, present in the Eucharist, and I long for the day when I can receive him.
So, Midnight Mass. I'd been told that it was always insanely crowded, and it was recommended to get there an hour to forty minutes early, to ensure a seat and a parking space. I'd driven by earlier in the day, right before the children's mass, and it was packed! Cars parked up and down the access road, and I'm certain that there were more in the grass along the back of the church. So I got there about an hour early, around 11pm. At the time there weren't very many people there, so I found my favorite parking spot, and went inside. No trouble finding a spot in a pew, and I spent the time I had left praying.
The church did get very crowded, though there weren't people standing in the side aisles, like there was when I attended Easter Sunday. Father P conducted the mass. We have two priests, Father P's the pastor, Father A is our Parochial Vicar. I like both of them, they have slightly different styles. Father P is more down home, I guess, while Father A is younger, and tends to lean to the more formal side of things. Both are excellent homilists, it's just a matter of style, I guess. Father A chants when presenting the Eucharist, while Father P merely speaks the words. Father A makes certain to hold the bread close to the microphone in the altar so that we can hear the crisp snap when he breaks the bread, Father P doesn't worry about that. They're both great priests though.
Anyway, aside from the time, it was an ordinary Mass, which means that it was lovely, and I'm glad that I went. I was also dead tired by the time I got home, and so ready to do it again next year, when I will be receiving the Eucharist.
The picture at the top is Pope Benedict XVI celebrating Midnight Mass this year.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Shampoo Induced Memories
I was going to post about my first Midnight Mass and some other stuff, not that there's a schedule, or people who read this but me, but I have a friend coming over and we're going to watch Chuck and Supernatural dvds and just generally be girls about stuff.
I'm still house/pet sitting, and showering, I accidentally grabbed my friends shampoo. She uses Neutrogena, which is a sort of hypoallergenic brand. I put it back, but I sniffed it first. I've got to say, this is the first time that a scent brought back a memory. My grandparents used to use that stuff, and I can't tell you how long it's been since I've smelled it, it was oddly wonderful. My grandmother's still alive, but as an adult, we don't hug as much (hey, we're German, it's perfectly normal), so I don't get that close to smell her hair.
The thing about it is my memory is sort of swiss-cheese-ish about my childhood. Partially (according to doctors), it's because of my thyroid. It affects the memory somehow. Partially, they say, it's a defense mechanism. Some of the stuff I remember is bad enough, so we assume that there's other stuff my brain just won't let me recall. The point is, I don't get a lot of 'Oh! That reminds me of....from when I was a kid.' moments. But I got one for Neutrogena shampoo.
I'm still house/pet sitting, and showering, I accidentally grabbed my friends shampoo. She uses Neutrogena, which is a sort of hypoallergenic brand. I put it back, but I sniffed it first. I've got to say, this is the first time that a scent brought back a memory. My grandparents used to use that stuff, and I can't tell you how long it's been since I've smelled it, it was oddly wonderful. My grandmother's still alive, but as an adult, we don't hug as much (hey, we're German, it's perfectly normal), so I don't get that close to smell her hair.
The thing about it is my memory is sort of swiss-cheese-ish about my childhood. Partially (according to doctors), it's because of my thyroid. It affects the memory somehow. Partially, they say, it's a defense mechanism. Some of the stuff I remember is bad enough, so we assume that there's other stuff my brain just won't let me recall. The point is, I don't get a lot of 'Oh! That reminds me of....from when I was a kid.' moments. But I got one for Neutrogena shampoo.
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