A Protestant and a Catholic go to Mass on Thanksgiving Day . . .

Sounds like the start of a good joke, but it's not. It's an experience I had a little while ago, when I (a former Catholic who would classify myself loosely as Protestant) went to Catholic Mass with my father on Thanksgiving Day. Here's the scoop: 

We are sitting in the second pew of the church ('with all the old people', as my father phrased it). The lectern starts the first reading: "A reading from the book of Sirach."

My head whips to the right where my father is seated. "Who?!" I whisper.
"Sirach," he whispers back.
"Who?" I repeat and he tries to spell it for me ("C-y-r- something. . . "). I ask where in the Bible that book is and he tersely replies that we can find out later; which is the cue for me to resume my posture of silence. I look around. There are no bibles. Nor are there any current missals - they've already swapped them out for next year's. So I zip my lip and jot it down in my notebook so I can look it up later. And yes, I am the only one taking notes. . .

The lectern then begins the second reading: "A reading from the first letter to the Corinthians."
Okay, I'm now on familiar ground. But that's all he gives me. No chapter or verse. Still, I've had an excellent teacher and I've seen enough of Paul to know an opening to a letter when I hear one ;-) But that's all we get. Just the opening. Hmmmm, kinda disappointing and unfulfilling. Hopefully the priest will have something to say about it (He didn't. Although, I did enjoy the homily he did give; except for the undertone of 'life sucks here on earth but don't worry it'll be all better in heaven')?

Now it's time for the reading of the Gospel. But because I'm taking notes and contemplating how the last reading left me hanging I miss which gospel the reading is from.
"Which Gospel, Dad?" I whisper.
"Paul."
"Dad! There's only 4 to choose from and that's not one of them."
"Shhh!"

After the service we went home and while my father was complaining, jokingly (I think. . . ) that I wouldn't stop talking to him during mass and everyone was staring at me because I was taking notes, I went to my iPad to investigate this book of Sirach. And my investigations, my experiences at mass, and other conversations that I had with my father over the Thanksgiving Day holiday reminded me of a few things as well as taught me some things as well. 

First, I learned that the Catholic Church is not as exclusionary as I thought - at least when it comes to their version of the Bible. Apparently they include several books that the Protestant denominations do not, including the book of Sirach and the Macabees. I had always had the impression that the Catholic Church was very tight and letter of the law when it came dogmatic issues. And when I say letter of the law I mean, "it's this way because we say so" with no good, solid reasoning behind it.

For example, the sacrament of communion - I never thought or knew the undergirding beliefs for this sacrament. It was a miracle and sacred because that's what the priests and nuns told me; and my parents "verified" it. But, as I was in mass I really listened to what the priest was saying.  And in his words were the biblical truths that: the sacrifice that Christ made on the cross is the ONLY acceptable sacrifice for our sin. There is nothing we can do or say to obtain complete forgiveness and; the only way that God's wrath can be fully satisfied is for God to become flesh and stand in our place - for the miracle of God taking on human form to occur. 

It is possible that I read the information about the Catholic Bible all wrong or that I still don't fully understand the Catholic faith. But, at the very least, I walked away with a less harsh view of Catholics as a community of believers.   

Things I was reminded of are that my father really does believe that only a Catholic priest is able to read and interpret the Bible. He said those words. In the end though, I got the impression that he actually feels that he does not have the time to fully investigate and understand the context of the Bible and therefore will not be able to interpret correctly. And we do know that context is king!

Also, I was reminded - or rather reaffirmed - of my opinion that Catholics are burdened with guilt. They have changed some of the responses in the mass, rewording them to be more closely linked with the original Latin. So now, the confession of faith includes words like, "my grievous sin" and "it's my fault, my fault, my fault". And in case you need help remembering this, there are placards in the pew with these words printed in BOLD FACE TYPE. 

Most importantly, the Holy Spirit brought a few scriptures to my remembrance:  Romans 14:1-2,5 and Hebrews 12:14. 

As for (A)the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. 2 (B)One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. (B)Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.

14 (A)Strive for peace with everyone, and for the (B)holiness(C)without which no one will see the Lord.

As is the way with all adults, when they find themselves in the presence of their original, nuclear family, they tend to resume the old roles that they played as a child - either out of habit or because it is pushed on them by the other family members. And in my family, our main means of communication is sarcasm and bickering. But these scriptures reminded me that I don't have to be the person I was in the past and I can show my family members and anyone watching Christ living in me. I don't have to beat them over the head with the Bible, nor should I think I'm better than them because I "know" the real way to a relationship with God. 

My father loves God, maybe even more than I do, and he serves God in the way he believes he should. God sees his heart and it is not for me to judge how he or anyone else chooses to walk. My job is to strive to be at peace with others and to represent God on earth with excellence. Not to choose to act superior so that my flesh can feel smug and proud. 

Something to think about . . .