In my experience, child care at ladies' daytime Bible study can be touch and go. Over the several years my children utilized it, I told myself that I would continue to be committed to the service even after mine had outgrown it. With that in mind last year, my first year of school day childlessness, I served as a "Love Lady," what they call a nursery volunteer. It wasn't a good experience because I found myself critical of the first-year teacher for her lack of organization and insincere, sing-song voice.

Since they say that being a Love Lady is completely voluntary, I did not sign up this year. Why not? I remember so many women over the years whose children were long grown having no commitment to Bible study child care. Why should I be different? Just because I said I would? But the fact that I hadn't served and didn't plan on serving did not go unnoticed and when a cancellation occurred, I got a call the night before. Was I a last resort?

An hour earlier than the regular time, I joined the Leaders' Team meeting to review the homework questions. The former Teaching Director was in town for a visit and led the discussion. My Core Group leader was seated next to me and I could see that her tendency to work her iPhone chronically was not limited to our regular group's time. I've been on the verge of saying something about her distractibility and I am now somewhat assured that if I do go to her superiors, they'll have a solid idea of what I'm talking about.

In the Leaders' Team meeting, I hoped I'd have something really insightful to say but nothing came to mind. In these circles, silence is often taken for wisdom, too often. In addition to my workbook, I had my little old commentary of Daniel, paired with Ezekiel. Simply flipping through the pages reveals which of the two I've studied and studied over again. The pages of the first half are nearly pristine except the twenty year age of the booklet shows. My Core Group leader asked which translation I had and I said, "New American" which can usually be understood as "New American Standard."

After the Leaders' Team meeting, I was placed with the homeschooled students, five children aged 6 - 10. The ten year old arrived late and was outspoken, confident and much too old for the others. I was to sit with the kindergartener who could not read. We looked at Jesus' feeding of the 5,000 in all four accounts, looking for differences. Not in a critical way, however. Unlike other parallels, this story doesn't have contradictions, only additional details, like the name of the city, the name of the lake, that a boy brought the food. I was impressed with how the children found these four passages in their Bibles. My charge even knew that there was food left over! The vocabulary of the story was simple; the teacher defined only "solitary" and "remote" for them. The approach of looking at the story across the Gospels reminded me of the work we do on Thursday nights. Protestant children and Catholic adults doing the same Bible study work. I thought a synopsis would be handy.

Sure, the kids became bored after working through the first account. They probably wondered why bother with the other accounts which say basically the same thing. But even though they shifted in their seats, asked for snack time and got up for a glass of water, they were very attentive. I could not imagine my children sitting through such an exercise. And I was torn between wanted my kids to know Bible stories and being concerned about overly dealing in generalizations and gross simplifications.

During snack, the kids mentioned some things they're learning at home. One of the eight-year-olds said he was learning about the Middle Ages. The teacher swooned, "Oh, I love the Middle Ages!" I was curious to know what she knew about the Middle Ages. Or thought she knew. I didn't have to ask, she offered. She said she'd taken a class on the Middle Ages recently and she learned that it was a really dark time.

"Where was the church during the Middle Ages?"
In chorus, "Underground!"
"That's right!"

I almost threw up. She said that the only good thing the Church of that time did was that monks preserved the Scriptures in monasteries. I said translations of the Scriptures were made as well, and she asserted that the Bible wasn't translated into English until King James' edition. I told her about the Lindisfarne Gospels in the 10th century. I told her about Sts. Cyril and Methodius in the 9th century translating the Bible into a Slavic language. She didn't seem to understand why these points were important.

The oldest boy, who spoke about having a ministry to neighborhood boys, asked our prayers for his dilemma: his basketball schedule conflicted with church attendance on Sundays and Wednesdays (Awana). I asked him casually when his sports season ended, but the teacher was livid that he had to get to church at least weekly. He said his parents insisted on his commitment to athletics but his goal was to get to church twice every three weeks. When the boy's mother arrived to pick him up, the teacher took her aside to encourage her to take the boy to church. Once again, I found myself arguing the Protestant's position more consistently than the Protestant. I bet she would be the first to tell you that "a church is just a building, you don't have to be at church in order to pray or worship God."

I found the children less perplexing than the women in my Core Group.

I received the pager and it went off before anyone else arrived. I took the table and ordered a drink before anyone else arrived. A couple came together to the table and one handed to the other the first season of Downton Abbey. They talked about the popular show briefly, being careful not to reveal spoilers.

Another arrived and blurted, "We don't have a booth?!" in greeting. Apparently I wasn't discriminating enough, since I merely sat where they put me. "Maybe if you'd been here twenty minutes ago when they first seated us, you could have ..."

I made up my mind about entrees from the online menu because even though I brought my reading glasses, the restaurant lighting was too low for me to see. Someone ordered salad without croutons because she is gluten free. She was served a salad with a breadstick instead. But rather than simply remove the breadstick, she sent the whole thing back for fear of contamination. I bet the waitress just plucked the breadstick off and served again the very same salad.

My entree was not even warm but spicy. I'm usually too hungry to send anything back anyway. My friend's steak was well instead of medium and at the other ladies' insistence, she sent it back. Which was the right thing to do. That is, the restaurant made it right by her, and quickly.

The entire time that food was coming and empty dishes were going and drinks were being refilled, I didn't hear anyone acknowledge the server's service. I know in fancy restaurants, with head waiters, one might not acknowledge his underlings. But this was not a fancy restaurant and I could tell from the waitress's frustrated expression that she was accustomed to being regularly thanked by patrons.

I showed my pilgrimage pictures even though it might be considered "off-topic."¹ I shared them in the spirit of "life goes on." Then the conversation turned to "shop:" the state of the church all of them had left over the past year, an upcoming women's retreat, and, of course, the latest TV shows. Seeking to justify their leaving, one of them made the assertion that their former church had left its denomination and turned non-denominational. I checked the church website and the denomination's website and that doesn't seem to be the case².

A number of TV shows were mentioned and endorsed. Someone turned to me and said, "You have alot of shows to start watching!" and I just replied that I don't watch TV. Certainly not anything with Maggie Smith.

There was talk of publishing some original study materials posthumously, and a desire to go through the personal library as well as retrieve a promised Coach handbag. The discussion began to take on a well-intentioned but manipulative quality, based on knowledge of the family's less-than-ideal habits, and I expressed that I was not involved. But I was aware of at least two books in the personal library that had been autographed by the author. I had given them as gifts and they ought to be given to someone who can appreciate them. I didn't ask whether the intense interest in the Coach handbag was due to devotion to the brand or to its previous owner.

After dessert and cappuccino - which a few of them couldn't make up their minds about - the bill came and sat on the table for 20 minutes. Obviously everyone is used to their husbands taking care of it. I caught our server putting on her coat and I was afraid her shift was over. I decided there was no reason we couldn't handle the bill and let her go. I worked the numbers but someone suggested that I deduct the sales tax before calculating the tip. That's not my practice but I followed the advice and then promptly forgot to add back the sales tax. I went over the numbers again and again but when I worked out the tip per person, it seemed too skimpy. Still, I couldn't see my mistake and no one offered to check my math.

As we left the table after more than 3 hours, I placed down more money, thinking that maybe our very long dinner prevented another party from sitting there. And it turns out that I left almost enough to cover the amount of the sales tax that I had left off. She received just a dollar shy of an appropriate 20% tip.

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¹ We were out together to observe the one year anniversary of a friend's death.

² The church's Facebook lists the institution as "non-denominational" as well as some other categories, but how persuasive is that compared with the other two websites?

Yesterday was both the feast of the conversion of St. Paul and the conclusion of the week - an octave, really - of prayer for Christian unity. Did you miss it again this year? Me, too. Well, almost. I guess I'd observed the octave unintentionally.

I thought I could take on an evening Bible study if it met every other week. I found one beginning this past week on the first few chapters of Romans.

It's been three years since I've attended a Bible study at this C&MA church in Plainsboro. In that brief time, I've noticed that my observation skills have deteriorated. I miss obvious things in the text that others point out. I find myself muttering, "How did I overlook that?!" I may benefit from practicing the technique again. Back to basics.

The initial session was Tuesday evening. We got acquainted, received the schedule and worked through Scripture's storyline from Genesis until Romans. I did not know anyone, I guess because I'd always attended in the daytime. Many of them knew each other from the fall study of Hebrews. The Precept workbook is "sold separately." I ordered myself the Romans Part I workbook earlier that day. A woman who switched to another class after receiving it left her copy free for anyone. No one expressed an interest so I took it and cancelled the online order. The workbook references another book that I'd received years back for nothing as well.

Then, of course, Thursday was CBS at the Bible / Baptist church in Allenwood. Before the morning program began, I overheard two women discussing how Fr. Bausch¹ weathered Superstorm Sandy. The one, Ouida, had been in my core group two years ago but her attendance was irregular because her ex-spouse, living in Texas, was dying and she went down to care for him. At the time I thought she might be Catholic but saw so little of her that I couldn't form a clear impression. The other woman, in reminiscing about Fr. Bausch, made it clear to Ouida - as ex-Catholics are compelled to - that she was raised Catholic, etc., etc., etc.

So, I felt that I did my part this past week in praying and studying the Bible with other Christians. But the week's activities weren't all that unusual for me.

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¹ People who know Fr. William Bausch personally, love him. Those who have read his books, don't. I neither know him nor have I read his books.

I volunteered to run an errand for my son's teacher that involved a trip "east" to Lincroft. I go to the eastern part of the county often but not usually on a Sunday afternoon. However that was the deal, so I worked in a turn at a favorite country market in nearby Colts Neck.

In fact, I drove past a Catholic church on the way to Lincroft and told myself I'd drop in on the return trip. The appointment in Lincroft was for noon and a Sunday service was just starting. I figured it might be near conclusion when I passed by again and I'd just slip in for a rosary in a quiet church. I'd prayed in that church during the daytime before and found it nice.

The errand didn't take long at all, so I found myself swinging through Colts Neck around 12:30. I entered the church woefully miscalculating where they'd be in the liturgy - the pastor was halfway through the sermon. I waited in the vestibule for him to finish and I'd slip in afterwards. The interior walls are glass and sound is fed into the room, so I didn't miss anything of his homily. Two boys stood at the back of the sanctuary, against the glass, directly in front of me. One had a phone and was texting. An older man entered the sanctuary - actually, I was surprised to see a steady stream of people arriving 30 minutes late for the service¹, like me - and said something encouraging to the boys because they smiled and nodded.

I slipped in and found a seat almost in the front because all the back seats were taken. It's a "fan layout" or half-circle, so most seats feel "close" to the front. I participated in the second half of the liturgy, preferring their music selection and performance. I had noticed a sign on the doors announcing that communion would not be offered under both species because of health concerns, i.e., flu epidemic. So at the sign of peace, I declined shaking hands even though I had used the hand sanitizer in the vestibule before entering the sanctuary. I'm not worried about myself: I've already had both the flu shot and the flu!

Anyway, after the service, I didn't feel like staying around for the church to clear. So I just said the rosary in my car as I drove home after shopping at the market. Since the church is dedicated to Mary, many of the stained glass windows depict Marian scenes. One across the way caught my eye, Fatima. Directly behind me was Lourdes.

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¹ to be late for a "last chance" noon service is pretty bad

Every few months, whenever my non-practicing Catholic friend gets a new coat or handbag or cut from the plastic surgeon, she invites me out to lunch to share. This time, I had something to share, a photo book of pilgrimage pictures.

Since she asked me to bring the trip pictures, I wasn't forcing anything on her. Her reaction to the first picture in the book was like, "Oh, you are speaking something?"

Convent St. Teresa, Avila, Spain Reading Wisdom 7:7-14
I wanted to counter her question with, "Were you ever Catholic?" But I bit my tongue and explained the setting so we could move on.

She asked whether I went shopping while I was abroad and I said that I bought some souvenirs. "Oh, I would have shopped, but you know I'm a shopper." I explained that there was a trio from Spring Lake who shopped for boots, coats and handbags when we were in Madrid. But it was a pilgrimage, and most of the merchandise was American brands made in China anyway. Nothing different from what one can buy in the States for less.

She said she didn't realize that I was so into church and she said she'd invite her mother to lunch with us next time. "She¹ goes to church every week." I often see her mother at church with my friend's children. I usually clear up her left-behind bulletin for her after she leaves during communion.

I told her I'd be happy for her mother to join us for lunch.

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¹ I think some people believe it counts if they know someone - a parent, usually - who goes to church regularly.

Sunday Snippets - a Catholic carnival hosted by Rann at "This That and the Other Thing."

My post this week: Vigil Solemnity Mary Mother of God and solemn vespers / Te Deum



Click to join sunday_snippets

The New Jersey DEP promotes their state parks with "First Day Hikes," guided walking tours on New Year's Day. I planned to walk with my oldest son at the Battle of Princeton because the guide seemed the most informed. Other NJ state parks are closer to home but this one in Princeton offered an early start, 7 am, and a reasonable duration of two hours.

Quaker Meeting House/Stoney Brook Meeting House
Since my parish did not offer a vigil mass for the solemnity, we attended elsewhere. The parish I chose just happened to be enjoying a visit from the bishop of Trenton who celebrated the vigil mass for the solemnity as well as solemn vespers and Te Deum afterwards.

We arrived early just in case the bishop drew a crowd. He didn't. I took my boys back one at a time to light candles. When the youngest asked me why we light candles, I said it's the reverse of blowing out birthday candles.¹ St. Gregory's is one of the few parishes I know that doesn't have electric votive candles. I let the boys try to strike the paper matches themselves and only the youngest succeeded. The older two were probably too afraid of being successful. But the youngest burned his fingers trying to light the candle.² I give him credit for not dropping the lit match on the stone floor. So all of them used a long, wooden stick to light their candle rather than the match. You really have to be quick with the match, especially because you have to reach down inside the votive glass to get the wick.

There was incense. And all the altar boys were on hand, as well as all the clergy. I wonder still why everyone sat after saying only the first line of the Gloria, then stood up for the Collect. The GIRM says, "The faithful should stand from the beginning of the Entrance Chant, or while the Priest approaches the altar, until the end of the Collect" (no. 43) It doesn't mention sitting during the Gloria as at a Traditional Latin Mass. I object to blending.

The bishop's homily from the vigil mass may be read online. I appreciate his point that the presence of shepherds at Jesus' birth is "not simply a sentimental, 'nice' part of the story." I had hoped my boys might meet the bishop after mass but he had to vest right away for vespers. I wondered how vespers would run, since the provided text indicated chanted Latin. I couldn't imagine the congregation could chant Latin. In fact, the only two who could or did was the choirmaster and one of his cantors. The clergy and the laity sat and listened. It was dull beyond belief.

Nevertheless, I might have muddled through - and I did try to sing along - if not for the kids. They wanted to leave. More than two hours in church is asking too much of them. So we slunk out. And I wish I'd known about the plenary indulgence for the Te Deum on New Year's Eve.

Rorate Caeli Blog

The Monitor, January 3, 2013

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¹ How different are wishes from prayers at their age anyway?
² When I told my husband, he said, "Good. He ought to be afraid of matches." True.