Another old, half-written draft I’m reviving:

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.

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…