Going to Mass

It is a beautiful thing to live in a place of great religious diversity. And, even better than this is to have friends from a variety of religious traditions in such a place. These people become those who stretch you to think outside the box of what is comfortable. They show you a world larger than you've ever known before.

Kevin and I are blessed with this beauty. We spend our free time with an amazing group of people from a variety of faiths. All our friends (minus those we've met at church) come from a different religious tradition than ours. In fact not only are we the only Baptists, but the only Protestants in the mix. A large majority of the bunch have some ties to the Catholic Church, whether they are regular attendees or had some experience in it during childhood.

So, when any of them ask me about what I'm doing on Sundays their questions usually begin with: "What time does mass start?"

I tried correcting them at the beginning, saying that my church doesn't call it mass, it is simply a worship service with church school an hour before it. But, it never seemed to sink in. I became a broken record. After a while I've decided I not longer cared. They can call the service I help to plan and lead "mass" if it helps them relate to what I do.

But what is even funnier is this: to my Catholic friends, the word "mass" applies to everything going on at the church. I guess this means I'm at mass all day. . .

So when did "mass" start for me this morning? 8 am. It went on until 2 pm when the Children's Festival concluded (it was an after worship children's fellowship) and it started again at 5 pm when I had a youth parent's meeting.

I really do want to go to Catholic church sometime to experience their tradition, but until then, I'll keep going to mass at the Baptist church where I'm employed. . .