50/365 Worship Commission February Edition

We were there until 10:30. We went to Ash Wednesday mass at 7:00, and then got into the rectory dining room by about 8:30 when it was all said and done. Sometimes worship commission is over by 8:30. I knew it was going to be a long one--we had to talk Triduum and Easter.

Hildegard, Sr. Vanda, Lynn, Bev, and I sat around the table and first, before anything else, vented about Ash Wednesday mass. The person we had all received ashes from just then had put the crosses on our foreheads and said, "Man, remember you are dust and to dust you shall return."

Now, I'm not the biggest feminist when it comes to church. I'm not. I can't be--I'm a Catholic, and if I stayed that angry it would affect my relationship with God. I know what I think and what I believe and I try my best to witness to that but I'm not going to make this my issue. I have things that might be "my issue" but just like my life's work, I haven't really found what that is. It might be inclusion in other ways, it might be reform of the priesthood or a return to a simpler Christianity...but I have a feeling that changing the words to, say, the Nicene Creed, is not my issue.

But really? I've been receiving ashes on my forehead for a long time--probably starting around age 4 or 5 and continuing up to the present. Perhaps 30 times? And I have never had someone say that to me before. Sometimes the dust blessing (blessing?) and sometimes the "turn away from sin..." version. But never have I been addressed as "man." Mike is stunned when I say this. The church in Cairo says that all the time. And really, that sums it up for me.

I didn't catch it when he said it. I was corralling Maeve, who found the earthy symbol of ashes to be the Best Thing that has ever happened at church in her memory. She had pushed her bangs back so everyone could see. So I didn't catch it. I heard dustyouwillreturn or whatever and I went back to the pews with Maeve waving at everyone and almost running into the cello player.

But at the end of mass, there was a rebellion of annoyed women. And men--the cello player's husband was in the chatty crowd of folks shaking their heads at this person's words. Many of them had spoken to him, including Sr. Vanda, who has always struck me as calm, rational, and soft-spoken firm. I was glad to hear she had, and Bev, and so many others, and not just Lynn, who is one of those angry feminists who changes the words to the Nicene Creed when she says it and thinks her way is the one and only way to be truly Catholic.

The thing about it that bothered me wasn't the stupid use of the word man and the officious excuse that this word was the translation required. It was the age of the person saying it. He's relatively young--becoming a priest and here for the time being. He's not some ancient deacon with outdated ideas. He's some young deacon with outdated unpastoral ideas. Seriously. There was no reason whatsoever to use that phrasing except to cause division and anger.

Lynn did say something in the meeting (we kept coming back to it, try as we might to stay on topic) that there are so many people she knows who have left the church, and not for theological differences but because of bad liturgy and bad presiders. She's right. I know a few former Catholics who became other things for whatever reason--met a Lutheran and found a better way there (and married him); became dismayed with the hierarchical structure of the church and found he was a good fit for the Friends; the call to priesthood got too strong to ignore and she left for the Methodists. But more than that, I know so many people who just left. Didn't go anywhere in particular. Couldn't really say why. Just left. Some of them were disappointed with specific priests or with their experiences in Catholic school. Some were simply bored with church the way it was presented to them. Liturgy wasn't alive, or too many priests said too many snide things to her. Not a true break for something, but a break due to a lack of pastoral care.

This is the kind of thing that dismays people, and it's for no good reason. And if it is the correct translation (and come on, saying that "man" means plural, we should use "people" instead--the English language has changed over time and it's a stale translation--something some old guy in a dress is still clinging to as he deals with his buyers remorse over Vatican II), if it is what we're supposed to say from now on, what does the hierarchy really want? A leaner, meaner church? What about the exclusion of 50% (or, really, let's be honest about church attendance, more) of the people in the pews makes any damned sense?

I have no true method of revolt here. I can voice my opinion to the person who did this; I can point it out to Fr. Miguel; I can write "MONEY IS FUNGIBLE" on every request for donations beyond the parish level. But we aren't a congregational church and I've chosen to belong to an organization where I stand at the bottom of a tall totem pole. Getting angrier.