My mother, under the guise of a lonely old lady (love you, Mom!), has convinced Chef and I to attend the Christmas eve church service tonight. It’s been about five years for me unless you count a few weddings. Chef, however, has never ever ever ever been to a church service. I had to fill him in on the details.
Chef asked whether or not it would be boring. It depends, I said. If it offends you, try to have a sense of humor. Chef asks how long it is. It depends, I said. There might be a sermon, but mostly a lot of candle-holding and singing. Chef asks why my family isn’t Mormon. I reassure him, nobody’s head is going to burst into flames, and it would mean a lot to my mom if we went. So we’re going. Chef insists on wearing slacks for his first time.
Chef also thinks we should bring along a book to read if we get bored, maybe one of the new books I received for Christmas:
Probably not a good idea. But very tempting.
Since we’re cocky atheists, going to church and not pissing anyone off is a fine line to walk. Think of when you’re sitting at a formal dinner and everyone lowers their heads to pray, I told him. You might hold hands and lower your head for a few minutes, but you end up looking around at your fellow diners, wishing for telekinetic ability, and conniving ways to get your lips on the first scoop of cheese grits. In other words, stand when everyone else stands, sit when everyone else sits, don’t feel pressured to sing, and we probably shouldn’t take communion. Also, try to avoid explaining to anyone nearby that that bread isn’t actually Jesus’ body and that grape juice isn’t actually Jesus’ blood. Serious faux pas. We are observers, interlopers, experience collectors, blessed with large tracts of patience and understanding.
Yes, this is a pep talk.
Like I said, pretend like you’re going to the theatre.
Pretend you’re visiting a foreign country, with an opportunity to view their quaint rituals firsthand. Act respectful, but don’t take communion.
I’m in a near-identical situation. I don’t believe, but I’m going to Mass with my parents, and I’m going to be just going through the motions, waiting and wishing for it to be over.
Are your folks Catholic? I thought they were the only ones who actually bought the transubstantiation stuff.
But then again, I guess you’re right — probably best not to bring it up altogether.
Ooohhh, good book.
Merry Xmas!
Respectful and observant–thank you.
I decided to go with my parents to church as well, but I went wearing my anthropologist shield so I knew I would be ok.
I couldn’t help thinking about Foucault and his attention to the discipline of the body during the service — your mention of sitting and standing is what inspired me to comment.
I didn’t have a problem sitting and standing, but I didn’t kneel. I felt this little rush of transgressive excitement as I thought about everyone’s bodies being made to move in unison like soldiers.
My sin this holiday: when my family had seated for dinner, they bowed their heads in prayer while I stood up and took pictures of them.
The Orthodox Church probably also do so.
Lauren, how did the Church going go? And let us know what you think of the book.
I went to a few holiday services. Because my mother is hard-of-hearing, they would print a written version of the sermon for her, which I would look on. That would at least let me know when the interminable garbage was going to die down. I also would bring a smokebomb for E-Z escape in the event that any older churchgoers recognized me from 20 years before in Sunday School.
One of the nice things about a Catholic Mass is that you basically know what’s coming, since they have to pack certain elements in each time (plus, they give you a printed guide to the liturgy). And if you don’t know when to sit, kneel or stand, there’s an old lady in the front row you can watch for cues.
How was the church experience for you and Chef?
We went to church with my parents on Christmas morning. My husband hadn’t been in a church, save for weddings and funerals, in ~30 years. I go to church once a year, when we visit my parents, but only because the northern Baptist church they attend is theologically as liberal as the Unitarian church, and they’re heavy on the singing. One of the few things that I miss about church is singing with lots of people and the organ with all the stops pulled out.