I was enthralled last night with the deep blue of the late evening sky. Blue seems to be a color that in itself, uninterrupted, unpatterned, is profoundly engaging. I think that certain shades of ochre strike me that way, too. But considering green I thought that green is most amazing when it is in company with other shades. Like emeralds set in a piece of jewelry, or the myriad shades of green in the expanse of a forest or meadow. It’s the interrupted green which is most engaging. And in a single shade – a lime green wall, a kelly green dress – it seems dull. Gray is another that seems most engaging by it’s variation, such as in the layered clouds of a tumultuous day, or the stained rocks of a cliff-face.
How often I see Brazilians wearing their ubiquitous backpacks on their bellies, to prevent thieves quietly opening the zippers to take things. Yet one day, in the crush of a crowded ferry ride, I put my backpack on my belly (which I rarely do), and a couple people in my group commented, thinking it was strange. In fact, no one in the thick crowd had their backpack on their front. Maybe ferry rides are devoid of thieves. Mysterious.
It is a bit odd to hear so many videos (especially shorter ones on YouTube, Instagram and other social media sites) narrated by an electronic voice. Even if the person producing the content has a speech impediment, difficult accent or you just feel timid, your voice is yours, and will bring a special flavor to your material. It seems strange to hide behind a robotic voice that makes everyone sound the same (presumably there are different choices but the default is the one that appears constantly).
I was pondering something similar with a friend today, recalling instances of people (mostly women) who speak in an alternate voice in stressful situations, such as switching to a child-like voice when speaking before a group or in front of superiors; whereas when in private (with trusted friends, for instance) they speak strongly and clearly, without shyness. But we also do this to avoid frightening people who are very sensitive, don’t we? Speaking gently and in a more child-like voice when comforting someone who is startled, for instance?
An unexpected thing with singing has been learning to be comfortable with my own sound, since the sound produced by lyric singing is very unlike the sound produced by ordinary speech. As new sound production develops it can seem too loud, resonant, harsh, brittle, sharp, nasal, vibrant, or even painful to the ears. My professor’s favorite thing to say at times is “If it sounds weird, you’re doing something right!” because if the voice is in familiar territory you are not exercising and expanding the range and quality of vocal production for singing.
The other day was Christmas, and it reminded me of a certain kind of person who chooses their outfits to match the liturgical season. I remember one middle aged woman at a church in Rio who showed up for some feast or other in a red suit, red and white striped blouse, shiny red shoes and matching handbag and hat. It seemed silly to me, and thus began an mildly awkward relationship to dressing. The purple scarf should or should not be worn during Lent? The red handbag on a martyr’s day? A blue dress on a feast of Our Lady?
This led to the memory of all sorts of quirky and charming types one sees in church. I’ve played some of these roles myself at one time or another:
The soprano: Usually middle-aged or even elderly, highly opinionated about music. If allowed in the choir soon drives away most of the rest of the choir with her criticism and temper. If she is ‘merely’ a person in the pews, she still stops by regularly to complain to the music director or the priest about the music. Can be a man or a woman — it’s the attitude that counts.
The introvert: Usually an older teen or young adult, definitely single, maybe should have but didn’t end up in religious life, maybe due to intellectual limitations or lack of social skills. Doesn’t talk much, spends most of Mass wandering around the peripheral areas of the church. Watches part of the action from the upper balconies, hangs out in the choir loft for a bit, later found puttering in the sacristy, sometimes does odd jobs like polishing candlesticks or restacking the hymnals.
The quiet fixture: Usually a very elderly lady, modestly dressed, rarely says a word, nearly always in one of the front pews any time you stop in that church. Best person to ask where the bathrooms are when visiting a new place. Will usually become your favorite auntie if you introduce yourself gently and respectfully.
The ministry fixture: Usually a middle aged woman, dressed in some unusual way that suggests “I have dressed up for church,” while being very different from what anyone else is wearing (ie may be the only woman in creased slacks, blouse, and heels instead of jeans). Walks in with the confidence of someone involved in running things, instead of the usual meandering “where shall I sit today” approach.
The converting couple: A rather awkward and adorable young couple, the girl still showing too much skin for church, the guy may arrive in shorts; holding hands or snuggling during Mass. Easy to engage in cheerful conversation. Not yet cynical.
The pious child: I tend to notice this more in boys, but now and again there’s a child of 5 or 8 or 12 who is just utterly engaged with God, and fully aware and prayerful, and it is the most precious thing.
The high-energy toddler: Usually this one is particularly agitated during the sermon and the Consecration, since these are the two times during the Mass when all the adults try to turn their full attention to the priest.
I found this title jotted in my drafts, and it has inspired a second post.
Occasionally I see humorous comments about the famous paintings of the Last Supper in which Our Lord and the Apostles are seated together at a long table, with everyone facing front. This seems so strange to the modern viewer that it inspires jokes. But it’s actually quite a common way of seating people, besides being simply a useful artistic form.
Here’s Mr. da Vinci’s famous version:
There are plenty of depictions with the group seated around a table on all sides, too. For example:
or:
or:
These may well be designed to fit within the illuminated letter, thus the careful arrangement of the table so that all the people can be seen despite the small space.
THAT said, there are real instances of people eating along one side of a table. This usually involves the food being served from the center of the dining hall with the tables arranged in long rows on each side, or the orientation of the tables to allow the diners to watch some important feature (for instance an important person’s table at the front of a great hall, or the entertainment being provided in the center or front of the room or on a stage).
In Brazil young couples sometimes sit on the same side of the table at restaurants so they can whisper, cuddle, and people watch while eating.
Here are a couple of illustrations of refectories in monasteries where the monks are eating on the same side of the table, and service is from the free (center) side. This is still found in some monasteries today.
Browsing my drafts to see what needs finishing up. I seem to be fond of jotting down titles. This one was jotted four years ago. No idea what I intended to write.
But here I am in the US just in time for the election of the first North American Pope! And I can’t help but be distracted by the endless details of Catholic life here that are so unfamiliar after so much time in Brazil. Here are a few:
There’s a certain kind of wholesome American Catholic family that is adorable and charming: a young mom and dad, healthy and glowing. Their array of children, spaced a year apart. Dressed in cheery but modest summer clothing. I imagine that the kids have charming names and great manners. At least one is probably autistic, but is gently managed through Mass, with mom covering his ears when the preaching is too loud. I suspect they homeschool. There is an innocence about them that would be lost if they went to school.
The traditional older ladies from Vietnam, Nigeria or Haiti: short, stout, and weathered. Always veiled and always wearing skirts, even if it’s the Mass of Paul VI in English. They know every devotion by heart, and pray them all every day. They are there long before Mass begins and stay for hours of Adoration. They keep the candle seller in business. They are the solid source of parish information for internet-free living: Mass times, where the bathroom is, the secretary’s phone number, etc.
The random crazy guy. Not specific to the USA! I’ve seen them in lots of places. Sometimes women do this, too. Usually involves doing a lap around the interior of the church, as if visiting each of the saints, while mumbling to oneself. Usually not properly dressed for church, but no one bothers them. In Brazil such folks generally help themselves to some of the flowers that are within reach, and are sometimes accompanied by dogs. (I’ve never seen dogs in church in the USA, but in Latin America it is sometimes politely ignored and sometimes even encouraged (supposedly to encourage people who are very attached to their dogs to come to Mass anyway).
Serious guys in suits. Fairly rare. Pretty serious. I once admired a guy who came to 7am Mass every morning in a suit. This was in Rio, where almost no one wears a suit for any reason. I thought he must be really pious. Then one day I went at 7am on a Saturday and there he was in shorts and a tee shirt, on his way to the beach instead of on his way to work…
I stumbled on a rare silent retreat the other day; so very unusual in this nation of convivial, chatty, sociable sorts of people. It was remarkably pleasant not to have to make small talk with everyone.
New to (silent) retreats? Here are my tips:
In my experience, charity allows for a simple smile and nod as you interact with someone — for instance when passing in a doorway, or if you need to cross in front of them to get to your seat. However, the eye contact and smile can trigger conversation (since to acknowledge someone and then fail to say hello and ask how they are doing would be extremely rude). If that happens a friendly bigger smile and nod while moving on will reassure the person that you are not angry at them, that they are safe and okay, and that you are just moving right along because you aren’t supposed to chat.
Another charity is to just gently ignore the people who can’t stop talking. Shushing them really doesn’t help, because they talk out of nerves, and aggressive gestures or looks will just add to their anxiety, making them more squirrely.
If you can’t hear a particular talk very well because of the chatty couple nearby or the loud fan or the bad microphone, don’t worry. Your Guardian Angel is taking notes, and if you really need to know anything, it will be presented to you in some form in the future. I didn’t believe this when I first heard it, back when I used to frantically take copious notes lest I miss some treasure of wisdom being spouted by an admired speaker, but it really is true. Just ask for whatever you need.
No matter how good or bad you are, take advantage of confession at retreats! You will have plenty of time to ask questions, not be sure what to say, get advice on steps to take to untangle complicated problems, get encouragement from very experienced priests, find out how easy some supposedly complicated problems are to solve, and so on. Confession in your parish is usually fairly restricted – short time available, long line, not much privacy, have to make an appointment, and so on. So sign right up when you have a chance during a retreat!
Take advantage of convent gardens for walking in between other activities. Keeps the blood flowing, good for the head, gets out the nerves, gives your poor mind time to process what’s being taught, and so on.
Sleeping quarters can be like summer camp in the 1980s (uncomfortable mattresses, ill-fitting sheets, mosquitos, loud fans, weird roommates, not enough hot water, and so forth). Keep expectations really low. Remember you’ll enjoy telling the story of the crazy adventure later. It’s only for a few days, you won’t die. Don’t let the devil pull you into a sulk!
Online questionnaires never seem to get the point.
YouTube: What did you like about this video? a) Interesting b) Informative c) Relaxing d) Entertaining
Missing answers: a) Long form with a pleasant narrator, good for falling asleep. b) PONIES!!!!! c) Excellent instructions for the specific problem I’m having with an arts project. d) PONIES!!!!!
This year’s Easter dress for My Lady. The lining of the reversible cape is an Indian fabric that was added to the design at the last minute. I had seen a bright orange dress at a chapel in Ecuador, and that inspired this one.
Joys and sorrows in praise of God 