A Tale of Three Churches

So, today, I decided to try to fit in three church visits in the same day. Ok, so I'm a nerdy seminary student! At any rate, I am so glad I went to each of them-- each had their own character and draw. One of the things I am loving about the Boston area is that I can access so many experiences. Walking to one church, I passed a beautiful chanted Ethiopian service, a prayer service starting at a beautiful masjid, and a lovely Buhhdist center that I would have walked into, but they were closed.

My morning started at St. James Episcopal Church in Porter Square...



This was my kind of service! Down to earth like I am used to back home (the priest was not even wearing an alb) in a beautiful building complete with gorgeous stained glass. Most beautiful were the people-- a very diverse urban congregation and lively! There were probably about 120 in attendance and the service was punctuated with amens and hymn music that, sung, sounded more like gospel. I loved that I was able to sing many of my favorite hymns from childhood. My favorite segment was the prayers of the people. Instead of the usual mumbling of requests, many people in the congregation offered prayers aloud for people they knew, recent crisises, or just reflecting on the sermon. It was a holy time, celebrating the Eucharist with black and white, citizen and immigrant, all one in Christ.

Then I headed out to the Boston Commons....


Here I joined the Common Cathedral, an outdoor church right in the middle of the commons, where most of the members are unhoused. And this was the most powerful service I have yet attended. The service was very simple and the music was led by a group of men with tamborines and harmonicas. There were about 40 people there, mostly the city's least wanted, with a few curious tourists who either took pictures or rolled their eyes. Sandwiches were handed out before and, come time for the prayers of the people, any person who wanted to had a chance to speak. Some gave a testimony, prayed for a friend, spoke about their fears or just thanked Jesus. I think this was the kind of place Jesus liked to hang out and I felt his presence. The singing was joyful and everyone seemed to know the words-- from the man who kept taking out his whiskey bottle to the girl dressed up in black and red leathers. And, best of all, all were welcome to the table as the priest and deacon and assistants walked around the circle and then the common area, offering all the bread and wine. Afterwards, a sweet older man with a daughter in college came up to me and gave me a cross and a blessing, sharing his story-- how, after 17 years on the street, he got a job a year ago and finally found an appartment recently. He talked about how God has changed his life.

A trip back to Cambridge and a nap later, I was ready to find an evening Spanish service...

So, I do get lost sometimes here and this was a bit hard to find, but I finally made it. About 150 showed up for Spanish mass at St. Mary of the Ascension Catholic Church. I couldn't navigate the missal well, but I enjoyed listening and understood a lot. I loved the priest's illustration during his sermon on the gospel for today as he shared his family's reaction to his decision to attend seminary (apparently, if I heard correctly, they wanted him to be a doctor instead). I felt a bit awkward in a catholic service in a new place with a language I am barely competent in, but I think I'll go back, after I find a order of service in Spanish so I know what to do next! Nothing is more beautiful to me than to hear the Padre Nuestro in Spanish-- especially when it was sung.