The teacher sprinkled our personal introductions over the week, meeting a few fellow classmates at a time. Either before class began for the day or after returning from break, he'd call out six or so names from an alphabetized list of registered students. If the person did not happen to be present at the moment, he'd move on to the next name. I had all week, then, to decide what to say, and there was a catch-all on the last morning for those overlooked.
One man from SA gave his name, that of a popular Hollywood actor, along with the apology that his parents were Catholics. Heads nodded. Catholics aren't so bound to saints' names anymore, but choosing one sure makes writing that Saint Report in third grade CCD easier. I should have asked him his confirmation name. The guys behind me marked him out because he touted the Legacy Study Bible.
One man mentioned having membership in the Evangelical Free church and someone seated across the room blurted out, "Another E-Free! I thought I'd be the only one here!" The following day and for the rest of the week, they sat next to each other.
It was impossible to miss the two black robed Dominican friars sitting front and center. This central spot helped them stay focused and kept them out of trouble. The older one, Br. Ignacio, had attended the Elementary Biblical Greek Review class the last time it was held, January 2019. As they travel in pairs, he had along a younger man, Br. John Baptist Santa Ana, who said he was a convert with a Baptist background. And that he still went by the name "Baptist!" As there were many veterans in the class, Br. Ignacio's Marine service won him much respect. Throughout our break times and lunches, these two were engaged in intense discussions with other classmates. I haven't the faintest idea about what. I suppose they are prepared for that sort of thing, dressed as they are. Invariably, their discussion partner would say in a sincere tone, as they separated, "Well, you have given me something to think about."
Br. Ignacio talked to me briefly, mostly about the Eucharist. The extent to which others share his great devotion may be a sort of litmus test. He dredged up a tête-à-tête he'd had with our teacher during the prior class -- in Jan. '19 -- on John 6: "How can he not see it, it's so clear!" I tried to be diplomatic with him because I had noticed our teacher glancing our direction. Later in our class discussion, the teacher recalled Br. Ignacio's previous debate with him on John 6. So, he had been able to surmise what we were talking about.
One guy, when called upon to introduce himself, went forward and took the teacher's clip-on microphone to address us. I settled in. He said his Daddy was a minister, maybe Methodist, and his earliest memory is of his father going through every prayer book in his church, crossing out "catholic" in the Creed and writing "universal" over the top. I cannot remember if this story had a point other than to demonstrate his Protestant credentials of a prejudiced upbringing.
Maybe the presence of the Dominicans had something to do with everyone else needing to prove how Protestant they are. But, in any case, this guy gave his spiel and then in the afternoon, the Dominicans were gone. Someone noticed their absence and asked the teacher. The teacher joked that they'd been offended and left, but then he explained that they went to Gethsemani for the afternoon. The one who asked about them then said, "Well, I'm a Catholic, too, and this is a bit too much." When his turn came to introduce himself, he said he was a convert who teaches theology and coaches chess in a Catholic high school, very much the Ohio version of my sons' religious school in New Jersey.
One man had arrived a day late because while driving to Kentucky, he struck a truck tire in the road and totaled his car. He was thankfully unharmed in the accident. Our teacher remarked on the "spiritual warfare" at work in inhibiting his timely arrival: "Satan doesn't want you here." Well, I did not have any trouble getting there, so what does that mean?
When my time to introduce myself came, I decided not to list off academic or professional credentials as others had, but to mention a fun fact about my home state as well as my current ministry and family situation. I know people generally have a poor impression of New Jersey, but I professed that summer is our best season. I told them about "God's Square Mile" on the Jersey Shore in Ocean Grove where the tent meetings started by the Methodists have pretty much been taken over by the Baptists1.
I mentioned being a lector2 at church. I explained what a lector does as they may not be familiar with it. Since they're mostly all pastors, they are accustomed to hearing their mic'd voice speaking solo in church, but I've only been lectoring for a year so I'm still getting comfortable with that. I said that I've happily accepted many requests for substitutions from other lectors who are getting away on vacations after the COVID restrictions and this is helping me grow in proficiency in proclaiming the Scriptures. And I mentioned my home-life which made a couple of them accuse me afterwards privately of "escaping" and "running away."3
The weekend conference began in the afternoon Friday, and I found myself standing in the registration line with a couple of friends of acquaintances. The wife asked about the online Greek New Testament reading group and I gave her the contact and zoom information and invited her to join in. Then she proceeded to casually spout off how many Catholics there seem to be about. I waited patiently for her to explain her experiences that have prompted this tallying. She mentioned the Catholic churches and schools right next to this very Protestant campus4. And of the three Catholics -- that she knew of -- in our class, well, two of them converted to Catholicism! And, so, yes, she has joined the weekly online Greek New Testament reading group that I participate in. She is very nice, quite emphatically Lutheran, but there's no way I'm coming clean.
1 One guy actually shot his fist into the air with a "Yeah" and nudged the guy next to him. This was exactly the reaction I was going for and not surprised to see.
2 An illiterate lector
3 Pastors
4 So, I'd say the neighborhood appears to be zoned for churches and schools as I noticed a good mix of various denominations very close by.
Friday, August 06, 2021
All the traffic seemed headed for the airport. Why does the sun rise so late out here? Bright orange construction signs telling of the closure of 71 South. Waze took me around it, heading to the monastery. The radio went strong and weak as I rolled among the Kentucky hills, now and then bringing in the sound of a screaming Protestant minister.
Jeff texted about losing my signal around Bardstown.
He opened the door to the main church for me and then he slipped into a side chapel. There was holy water in the font, and I was alone in the church except for the occasional monk passing through. I took my pictures -- my camera lens had fogged something fierce outdoors in that thick, late July, Kentucky air -- from the ground floor and from the balcony upstairs.
The material making up the floor, pebbles set in cement, seemed so practical, though I had no intention of kneeling on it as some did. There were cushions available for kneeling.
I used the booklets to participate in the third hour of prayer, "terce", as it's called. The monks sat on the near end of the long, narrow choir but not so close that they could hear us. I mostly listened or whispered. There was one strong voice among us. Then we were allowed to pass through the choir area to a sanctuary at the far end for Sunday liturgy.
Most of the monks disappeared to vest because they are also priests. A second pipe organ graces the sanctuary but the organist sat just out of view. There was a sprinkling rite with the penitential rite. There was incense before the reading of the Gospel. The homily was about welcoming others and offering hospitality. The communion bread, I didn't have the luxury of examining it, of course, but it was very thin, very white, larger than usual with some imprint. Maybe it's made in nearby Erlanger.
Trappist Monasteries in the United States
I used the booklets to participate in the third hour of prayer, "terce", as it's called. The monks sat on the near end of the long, narrow choir but not so close that they could hear us. I mostly listened or whispered. There was one strong voice among us. Then we were allowed to pass through the choir area to a sanctuary at the far end for Sunday liturgy.
Most of the monks disappeared to vest because they are also priests. A second pipe organ graces the sanctuary but the organist sat just out of view. There was a sprinkling rite with the penitential rite. There was incense before the reading of the Gospel. The homily was about welcoming others and offering hospitality. The communion bread, I didn't have the luxury of examining it, of course, but it was very thin, very white, larger than usual with some imprint. Maybe it's made in nearby Erlanger.
Trappist Monasteries in the United States
Thursday, the teacher invited the entire class to dinner at an Indian place. He cancelled the following day's quiz -- we had quizzes every morning since Tuesday -- but the final exam was still pending for those taking the class for credit. About twenty of the 90 students came out for dinner.
During break time, I had completed the translation assignment, John 4:7-14, due Friday morning. I arranged a ride to the restaurant with a classmate who, along with his wife, was also staying at the hotel on campus. At the agreed to time, she entered the lobby and we talked, as her husband brought the car around. She said,
Between the two of them, they had three GPS screens going, homing in on "Shalimar Indian Restaurant." I don't know the laws regarding handheld devices in Louisville1, but I generally assume it's illegal everywhere. Not wanting to be a backseat driver, I kept Waze off and trusted them. There was a wrong turn into a deadend, a driveway for a dumpster, for which the wife, as the designated navigator, took all the blame. I said something like, "All alleys in New Jersey are connected, no deadends" and the husband said Texas is the same.
As we joined a table, the ongoing conversation paused momentarily and then resumed. The man to my left, whom I later learned was a retired trial lawyer of fifty years, was telling about the reaction of French Catholic tourists visiting a Harlem church. His buddy to his left, a retired rocket scientist, said that maybe some life could be breathed into the Catholic liturgy if more Catholics visited spirit-filled churches. Later during the meal, the same lawyer told a story about a Manhattan hotel -- except he said "a New York City hotel" -- that charged only $30 a night "if you are a Catholic." So, his wife, who played organ for a Catholic church, was told she could stay at that hotel, even though she isn't Catholic2. It was difficult from his tone to judge whether he said these things approvingly.
The teacher was pushing the Chicken Tikka Masala as a crowd pleaser. Most everyone listened to him and ordered that. He recommended zero spice. I ordered Shrimp Jalpharezi which was fine, only occasionally spicy. The portion was small so I was hungry later but I'd taken home some naan bread and ate that before going to bed.
The idea was to treat the seminary students from the class who had joined us at the restaurant. Three times, the teacher went from table to table in our party, asking students for their dinner check. He came back empty-handed each time. I was willing to pick up someone's bill, as was everyone else at my table, but we did not get that chance.
1 A law to that effect passed last summer.
2 I suppose he means this place, The Leo House, charging $190/night these days to guests of all faiths.
During break time, I had completed the translation assignment, John 4:7-14, due Friday morning. I arranged a ride to the restaurant with a classmate who, along with his wife, was also staying at the hotel on campus. At the agreed to time, she entered the lobby and we talked, as her husband brought the car around. She said,
"My husband's car has been having a problem that the mechanics can't figure out. So, in the week leading up to this trip, I asked the Lord for clarity concerned which car to take. And last week, his car took a turn for the worse and here we are in my car, a perfectly good car."Is "seeking clarity from the Lord" synonomous with asking for a sign?
Between the two of them, they had three GPS screens going, homing in on "Shalimar Indian Restaurant." I don't know the laws regarding handheld devices in Louisville1, but I generally assume it's illegal everywhere. Not wanting to be a backseat driver, I kept Waze off and trusted them. There was a wrong turn into a deadend, a driveway for a dumpster, for which the wife, as the designated navigator, took all the blame. I said something like, "All alleys in New Jersey are connected, no deadends" and the husband said Texas is the same.
As we joined a table, the ongoing conversation paused momentarily and then resumed. The man to my left, whom I later learned was a retired trial lawyer of fifty years, was telling about the reaction of French Catholic tourists visiting a Harlem church. His buddy to his left, a retired rocket scientist, said that maybe some life could be breathed into the Catholic liturgy if more Catholics visited spirit-filled churches. Later during the meal, the same lawyer told a story about a Manhattan hotel -- except he said "a New York City hotel" -- that charged only $30 a night "if you are a Catholic." So, his wife, who played organ for a Catholic church, was told she could stay at that hotel, even though she isn't Catholic2. It was difficult from his tone to judge whether he said these things approvingly.
The teacher was pushing the Chicken Tikka Masala as a crowd pleaser. Most everyone listened to him and ordered that. He recommended zero spice. I ordered Shrimp Jalpharezi which was fine, only occasionally spicy. The portion was small so I was hungry later but I'd taken home some naan bread and ate that before going to bed.
The idea was to treat the seminary students from the class who had joined us at the restaurant. Three times, the teacher went from table to table in our party, asking students for their dinner check. He came back empty-handed each time. I was willing to pick up someone's bill, as was everyone else at my table, but we did not get that chance.
1 A law to that effect passed last summer.
2 I suppose he means this place, The Leo House, charging $190/night these days to guests of all faiths.
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