The People of God

Last night, my husband and I experienced a sort of "deja vu" moment.  We were visiting Holy Spirit Catholic Church in Garfield Heights, Ohio.  I am pretty sure the majority of Catholics in the United States see the face of Catholicism as white or Hispanic.  I am also pretty sure they are wrong.  Last night was a beautiful time of prayer and worship with our African American brothers and sisters.  It was, to me, a coming together of the best of all I've known as a Christian--the amazing wonder of the liturgy and the worship of a community of many colors.

For the first years of our marriage, most of them were spent in Highland Park, Michigan.  The congregation there was a beautiful palette of races.  Our times of singing and worship were heartfelt, full of passion, and a musical style that touched something deep within my soul.  Though I grew up in mostly-white southwest Kansas farm country, I have often felt there was a bit of the land of Africa in me, too.  Something about the fervor of it all resonates within me.

The typical American Catholic parish is not so.  Some, of course, more than others.  But I fear we are missing out on something very rich when we do not allow ourselves to fellowship with those of other races on an ongoing basis.  "We are one Body, one Body in Christ..."  And for anyone who thinks Catholics are too "unwelcoming" or keep too much to themselves, I give you one bit of advice:  visit Holy Spirit Church and get a new perspective on that matter.  ;o)

Since becoming Catholic, the liturgy speaks to me in a way too deep for words.  Thus, the combination of the two is something I am at a loss to describe.  (Heavenly?)
I will let the rest of this post speak for itself.