How I became Catholic - Part 3b

The other event that changed things was a Religious Studies course I took at the local secular Univerisity. I think it must have been the Jan semester following that Good News seminar (2003). At that point, I was asking Conor more questions about Catholicism. In the religious studies course we got a basic overview of many religions, and apart from the final exam, the main assignment for the course was to do a “church visit”. You were supposed to get a “mentor”, go to a service at their church, ask them questions and then write a paper on the service (the order of the service, the people involved, things you saw in the church building, etc.) A lot of people who took the course would just be their own mentor and go to their own church – the easy way out (in fact, Conor had taken the same course and done just that!) I, however, decided to go to Conor’s church as my visit. I thought that by doing it this way I could satisfy my curiosity surrounding the Catholic Mass, while not making Conor think that I had any interest in converting. (I don’t know who I was kidding though, my interest in the Catholic church was very steeply increasing at that time).

So one Sunday evening, Conor, his brother Nathan and myself went to mass at St. James in Abbotsford (I’m glad I didn’t go with his whole family on a Sunday morning, I think he had that in mind though as well). In Abbotsford there are two Catholic Parishes, St Anne’s and St James. St. James is the newer of the two, and still currently holds mass in the gym of the Catholic Primary school. So as far as my first Catholic Church visit, it was pretty subdued – not as many “smells and bells” that one might find at another parish. I think that may have been a good thing though – I was used to very simple church decorating, so lots of candles and statues may have really confused me. Anyways, the thing that struck me right away was the silence – but not in a bad way. At all the churches I had ever gone to before there was a lot of socialization before the church service started, and this usually took place while sitting in the sanctuary. I never really thought anything of this until I walked in that Church. I could sense that the room held something very special, despite the fact that the room itself was only a gym; people were being silent in respect, they were being solemn, and I found it very moving. I watched as Conor did the sign of the cross with Holy Water, and as he genuflected before sitting in his seat, and then as everyone kneeled and while I felt like such an outsider, I didn’t feel it was because I wasn’t meant to be there, but because I was there but couldn’t experience fully what everyone else was experiencing.

I was actually most nervous going to mass because my brother told me before I went to expect to sit, stand, kneel, stand, kneel, bang your chest, stand, kneel. I wondered if it was like a weird ape dance or something!?! But I just followed Conor’s lead (although I didn’t go up for a blessing when everyone was having communion, that felt like a bit much at the time). Afterwards Conor let me read the paper that he wrote, and the mass made a lot more sense to me. It seemed so much more intricate than services at my church. I was used to: pray, sing, pray, sermon, pray, sing, pray. Here they used the term “liturgy”, they have several readings from the bible (funny thing, because I was under the impression that Catholics didn’t read the bible!), they sang hymns (I’ve always loved hymns!), and they had communion every Sunday (actually every single DAY if they wanted to, at daily mass).