Practicing Alone

On the way to visiting the most amazing exhibit of the work of M.C Escher, we stopped by Iglesia St. Gregory, which we pass by on our walk to and from our apartment. It's a neighborhood church, with a stunning baroque altar as its centerpiece, which was behind an equally ornate scrollwork gate. Kneeling in front of the altar was a tiny woman, covered from head to toe in white. At first I thought: "if this is a wedding--where is the groom?" Then, it hit me- she is a nun and "the groom" is Christ, and the "audience" was the large statue of Mary St the center of the altar. I think it was part of this order of nun's daily devotional practice-- to pray in front of Mary regardless of who else was in the chapel.

We came back to the church on our way home, this time while a Mass was being conducted. There in the front was there, again, a small figure cloaked in white. Other nuns were singing, but invisible to the visitor sitting in the back of the sanctuary. The organ was accompanying lovely and haunting Gregorian type chants. All of this beauty, I thought, for the one person, who was attending the Mass, and us, two Unitarian Universalist ministers on their way to some place else. I realized later, however, the fundamental difference between Catholic and Protestant style of worship: the "audience" for this order of nuns was Mary and God; it didn't matter if we were there or not. For Protestants, which is the lineage and history of Unitarian Universalists, the people's presence is imperative.

This experience reminded me of one of the threads on a recent ministers chat which posed the question about whether or not ministers will be holding Sunday morning services this year on Christmas Day. Some have decided against it, citing that no one would come. Others, like us, have said "it's Sunday and we do church on Sunday, even if no one comes.". Sometimes on Sunday morning, at 9:15, I look out in despair because the sanctuary is three quarters empty and I pray that people will come (and they do, eventually)If no one came to church on Christmas morning, I think Wayne, David Blazer and I would simply spend that hour in meditation, prayer and music instead of conducting a "service."

I realized that although I love the idea of the Unseen Presence as the audience, church for me requires the presence of people. Our faith tradition requires showing up and engaging in the spiritual practice of church. Every Sunday when we lead worship, it makes a difference to be in the living, breathing presence of the gathered community. The showing up of real bodies on Sunday morning is, in truth, the answer to my prayers. Kathleen