While it is generally accepted that individuals should look at issues from multiple angles, this rarely applies to religion. For such a personal, often irrational belief to be poked and prodded, it requires some sensitivity on the part of the prodder and a good sense of humor on the part of the believer. We attempted to look at religion from multiple angles by visiting two very different churches, St. Vincent de Paul parish and the Elkhart County Community Baptist Church. Chris, previously a Methodist and currently agnostic, and Kelly, a cradle Catholic, explored these churches, talked to their inhabitants and used the findings to discuss religion. We try to connect what we saw—essentially religion in its rawest form—with the upcoming elections, exploring the beliefs that manifest themselves on the ballots.
Kelly: Why don’t you start by telling me a little bit about what we’re doing and why. And I’ll interject.
Chris: We went to two different churches to see how different denominations handle their services and the environment, I guess.
Kelly: There are a lot of flavors of Christianity. I know there’s an underlying belief that all Christians should treat each other the same because they all believe in Jesus Christ. But to be frank, the two churches we went to could not have been any more different.
Chris: There were both very different, but it was more like two different approaches to Christianity. The Catholic Church was VERY traditional, while the Baptist church was more of a grassroots approach to religion.
Kelly: I grew up in a Catholic church, but I was an absolute stranger in the Baptist church.
Chris: I didn’t feel very comfortable at either, but I felt like I knew what I was doing at the Baptist church more than the Catholic one. Mostly because the church I grew up in was Protestant and the services ran more like the Baptist church.
Kelly: So let’s talk about the Catholic Church experience.
Chris: I guess we should also mention the names…
Kelly: St. Vincent de Paul parish, and Elkhart County Community Baptist Church.
Chris: At St. Vincent’s I was lost. I didn’t know what any of the traditions were, and I didn’t know what was going on.
Kelly: It’s almost comforting, knowing what will come next because it rarely changes.
Chris: It was a game of follow the leader. “Now we’re standing. Now we’re sitting. Now we’re singing in Latin. Now we’re saying ‘And also with you’”
Kelly: As my track coach says, the people know what kind of Sunday it is. This time it was a children’s mass, so the homily was shorter and meant for children.
Chris: I think I would get very bored at something like that. The priest only addressed the children for a few minutes. At the Baptist service (and services I attended as a child) the majority of the service is the pastor’s sermon. He’s supposed to teach the congregation, but I didn’t really get that impression at St. Vincent’s.
Kelly: Mass isn’t meant for teaching the congregation solely. The entire mass is a prayer leading up to communion, and the sermon plays a small role. All of the kneeling and Latin were all preparations for communion. I think for this reason, it isn’t as friendly toward visitors. Communion is not allowed for non-Catholics, and so the whole prayer leading toward it may seem pointless for someone who isn’t preparing to take it.
Chris: It did. I was confused and bored. It was almost embarrassing to not know what to do, but at the same time I wondered what the point was. I guess I never really understood rituals. Though I will say I was much more comfortable with the overall presentation of Mass than the Baptist service, which was much louder (and longer).
Kelly: One of the biggest problems facing Catholics is that they don’t understand the rituals, so it’s very important for teaching masses. Do you remember the “peace” ritual?
Chris: “Peace” “Peace” “Peace” “Hey, you, Peace” “Oh, and you, Peace” That ritual?
Kelly: Yeah. Why do you suppose we shake hands just then? Why not at the beginning of mass?
Chris: No idea. Just in case somebody comes in late?
Kelly: (Laughing.) Definitely not. We said the “Our Father” right before the peace-making ritual. In which it says Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. The Gospel recounts Jesus telling a group of men to make peace with their brothers before approaching the altar.
Chris: I see.
Kelly: It’s very important to us to reconcile with everyone before communion. When it all comes down to it, it’s all about communion. We hold it as the most important sacrament.
Chris: At the Baptist service, it seems like we greeted those around us right after singing, right? They probably did do that in case somebody came in late…there were a lot of people that came in late.
Kelly: There were people coming in late at mass, too. They were just more embarrassed, I think. It’s not exactly a laid-back environment.
Chris: That’s true. I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles.
Kelly: That’s probably how Catholics get their iron fist reputation; they’re gracious with outsiders, but they don’t appreciate late-comers and such.
Chris: The 11th commandment: Thou shall not be late.
Kelly: Everyone noticed you, but no one said anything to you in case it would embarrass you. They all asked me about you later.
Chris: At the same time, not saying anything to me made me feel like nobody noticed or cared I was there.
Kelly: Mass is usually an independent event. It’s not common to make friends during church. We depend on fellowship developing afterward, on committees, and our famous CRHP weekend.
Chris: I see.
Kelly: Trust me, I had at least 10 people ask me about you; they noticed and cared. So how about the music? How different was that compared to what you’re used to?
Chris: Haha. We’ll I’ve never sung in Latin before. And the Hymnals were a blast from the past.
Kelly: Not exactly how I would describe them, ha.
Chris: The churches I went to all had projectors that put the words up on a screen big enough everyone could read. And it was usually Christian rock music.
Kelly: You know how I said the parishioners know what kind of Sunday it was? That was a traditional Sunday. I went back to mass later that day and there was a longer, more pointed homily, as well as more upbeat music. Rock, no. But upbeat, yes. It’s difficult to please the crowds; there’s the Old Italian group, a newer English group, and a thriving, energetic Latino group. St. Vincent’s struggles to mix the three ethnic groups.
Chris: That’s interesting. The Baptist church seemed to be 100% WASP.
Kelly: WASP?
Chris: White Anglo-Saxon Protestants
Kelly: Gotcha. St. Vincent’s has about 3,000 members though, compared to the 30 we saw at the Baptist church.
Chris: That’s true. Should we talk about the Baptist service now?
Kelly: Sure, if you think we have enough material.
Chris: Well, you seemed to be completely taken aback by it, so why don’t you start?
Kelly: I always thought the ‘fire and brimstone’ stereotype was just that: a stereotype. It definitely wasn’t. There was yelling, there was hell. I have heard one homily in my life where we addressed how scary it would be to go to hell. The preacher there spends three sermons on it yearly, plus the hell references during all of the other sermons.
Chris: He also yelled quite a bit. I have a feeling that’s his style. It’s probably the way he knows and thinks it is most effective in getting his message across. Nobody wants to go to hell, so they will listen. They’re scared.
Kelly: But nobody seemed scared. They were all smiling, hugging, and amen-ing. Oh, and nobody sat still. That drove me crazy; people just walked in and out, shuffling around.
Chris: It certainly didn’t have the structure rigidity that Mass did.
Kelly: Not just the structure rigidity. It was so lax (clothing, moving around, free mic) that it nearly seemed poor. And by that, I mean that it felt like a handful of farmers had come together with no agenda to praise the Lord. Poor probably isn’t the best word, but I imagine barefoot children in the South coming in from their cotton-picking to talk about the damnation of hell.
Chris: I wouldn’t say that at all. I think they came together to “praise the lord.” And it was a much more grassroots approach, but I think it is that they believe religion should be accessible to anyone. You shouldn’t have to know a bunch of rituals or speak Latin, it should be about a personal relationship between you and God.
Kelly: It didn’t feel personal whatsoever. It was a shared, common faith; that was probably the best part about the service. It wasn’t an individualized, personalized service. You were meant to speak your amens and talk with your neighbors. Your prayers were public. It wasn’t personalized. It was a big community worship. And I did say it was to praise the Lord, even if there was no agenda.
Chris: I meant personal in the sense that it was comfortable. It wasn’t a formal relationship, but that God was your Dad…not your Father.
Kelly: To me, calling God your Dad seems a bit irreverent. I think there’s a line; we’re taught to give God your best, so you dress up. It’s hard for me not to feel strange about churchgoers in jeans. If they truly were poor farmers, I wouldn’t think twice. But they’re not poor farmers. I wanted them to dress up. At least I hope they’re not poor farmers. Then I’d feel like a jerk.
Chris: I think they probably are the Elkhart’s equivalent of poor farmers. They weren’t wealthy in appearance, and the majority of them probably had blue-collar jobs. Not quite the peasant slave of Hamlet’s time, but they’re far from Donald Trump.
Kelly: I know, but Goodwill exists. I still don’t think anyone should wear jeans with holes in them to church.
Chris: That’s because you’re Catholic. You guys are sticklers about your traditions. Like I probably said before, these people are less formal with God. Rituals don’t have as much meaning.
Kelly: It’s not a ritual though, it’s respectful.
Chris: Maybe it simply isn’t enforced or thought about within their church and belief system. I don’t think they dress in jeans to be disrespectful–if they did why even go to church? I think they do it because they are comfortable within their beliefs and don’t see it as something wrong.
Kelly: It’s not like it’s a sin. It just seems strange–there’s that old phrase “your Sunday best.” I figured it would apply to Baptists more than other denominations.
Chris: The thing about many Protestant churches is that they are making religion more fun. To keep people coming to worship, they relax the strict traditions–like dressing up and singing hymns.
Kelly: I’m not sure religion was meant to be fun. That kind of defeats the purpose if you go out of your way to make your worship fun. It’s about God, not you. I admit that we include more upbeat music because it is more pleasing, and the Vatican has relaxed a lot of strict traditions. But there’s got to be a line somewhere. At some point you have to say, “This is formal worship. I should wear something whole.”
Chris: Catholics maybe. But, that’s not what this church was about. It was about community. Coming together to worship God. If I’m not embarrassed to wear something in front of my neighbors, why should I be to wear it in church? They focused on community much more than at St. Vincent’s. They had a time where they had members ask for the congregation to pray for individuals, they had an individual sing a hymn to mark the one year anniversary of her mother’s death. They greeted us as soon as we came in and said goodbye when we left. The focus isn’t on being formal–what the Catholic tradition is doesn’t apply here.
Kelly: Those traditions aren’t foreign to the Catholic Church. I have been to masses where individual prayers are encouraged (just like what we witnessed), and even personalized music. The reason you didn’t see it was pragmatic; we’re a huge congregation compared to them. And we weren’t greeted because we came in the back way. Father Phil did say goodbye to us. The differences you noticed had nothing to do with doctrine–it was pure pragmatism. The biggest difference I see is one of purpose. It appeared as though they gathered to teach, whereas we gathered to pray.
Chris: I guess there’s something to be said about that too. Not all the changes we notice can be attributed to the religion–only the church. As I’m sure other churches of the same denomination carry out services differently. I would agree with that statement.
Kelly: I wish we had the time to go to a Mennonite church. My experiences at the Mennonite church have been incredible. I was publicly encouraged to genuflect and cross myself in order to “be the best Catholic I could be.” It’s incredible; we have a Mennonite man who is very active on Catholic retreats and formations. They’ve actually merged some customs…it’s really neat.
Chris: Methodists have communion–but we let others take it.
Chris: *we=they (I’m only a Methodist when it’s convenient).
Kelly: Mennonites also have communion, but only baptized Christians can take it. Because I’m a practicing, baptized Catholic, I was allowed to take it. The idea that communion is only for those who truly understand it isn’t a Catholic idea. Ha: Catholic means universal. That sentence made me laugh. Okay, sorry.
Chris: Did we mention that you laughed out loud during the Baptist service? Because I want to make sure that makes it in.
Kelly: All the fire and brimstones, clapping and shouting was funny. It confirmed the stereotypes so perfectly…
Chris: Actually, both churches lived up to their stereotypes. Maybe we should do another story called “All I learned about religion I got from stereotypes.”