the Pomp and Ceremony of it all

I am a Catholic which surprises many of my friends and family. But, I am a Catholic. I am a pretty devout Catholic. This doesn't mean I am joining Mel Gibson in any retreat and I don't wear a celice like they do in Opus Dei, but it does mean that I attend church fairly regularly (at least 3 times a month) and I miss it when I don't go. It does mean that I am a lector (someone who reads the liturgy during mass) and a catechist (someone who, as my father insists, indoctrinates the next generation of Catholics) and a believer.

Last night I saw one of the reasons why I am such a believer. One of my favorite parts of my church is the ritual of it. In Villette the main English Protestant character goes to France and is stunned by the Catholics. Well, more to the point, horrified. But even in her horror she comments on the ritual of the Catholic Church and how beautiful it was.

My parish built a new church and we had the dedication of the church ritual. It took about two hours. It was full of holy water and holy oil and incense. There was darkness until the ritual lighting of the church and than ahhh there was light. There were hymns in Latin, what other church can lay claim to hymns in Latin? All the hair on my skin rose when we sang the Gloria. This was stunning. Not horrifying, stunningly beautiful.

Thank God I believe and am part of it. Now only if my skirt hadn't torn during the communion line and I hadn't worn nice pristine white panties which were painfully obvious through the tear. Smile.