We would like to preface this entry by saying, no offense to anyone who is Catholic and reading our blog... and that we may have a few questions for you later.
We got a late start today. For whatever reason, I just couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed. So we lounged around until about 1 p.m., and then hit the bus stop with our sickly companion Kelly. The bus was PACKED. Apparently there was an important football match happening, and just as we were entering the city... so were all the fans.
We made it to City Centre rather safely though (I survived an old woman lunging into me as the bus took off abruptly, as they always do, and she was launched head-first into my stomach). So the three of us headed for St. Patrick's Cathedral. We had a good laugh when we passed Christ Church Cathedral, as a ridiculously long song rang from the church bells. I commented that it would be funny if Christ Church and St. Patrick's were dueling over who could play the longest song... and five minutes later when we arrived to St. Patrick's, sure enough it too was playing a tremendously long song. The same one. And it lasted about 15 minutes. They put Queen to shame! As well, Duncan said that he felt sorry for the people living in the flats across the road, for the fact that they get a free 15-minute overture who knows how many times a day.
"I finally put the baby to rest, Eathan. "
"Wait... what time is it, Katherine?!"
"3:00... why? Oh God... Evensong! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
After a short stroll through the park outside the church, we decided we were ready to tour the cathedral. Luckily (and lucky for you too, for the story you are about to hear) we had arrived just in time for the Evensong service, so were able to enter for free and participate in a Catholic service.
Now imagine, if you will, three little Berry Protestant students, none of who had ever been to a Catholic service before, innocent in our naivety. We were mainly excited to see the inside of the gorgeous cathedral-- it was quite a majestic and very reverent space. When the choir came slowly marching down the aisle, it was a very sensory experience, a very compelling offering to God.
So far, so good.
We were even able to keep up with all of the appropriate times to stand and sit. I found it a bit odd that EVERYTHING was sung... and I stifled a chuckle when the priest sang an entire paragraph using only one note. However, I thought I could go unnoticed until we got to the Anthem. I would like to share with you just a small portion, of which we are copying directly from the bulletin. Imagine this beginning in a very slow hymn, and then suddenly bursting into something resembling a Broadway show-tune, but still very churchy.
...Let David bless with the bear- the beginning of victory to the Lord- to the Lord the perfection of excellence. Hallelujah from the heart of God, and from the hand of the artist inimitable, and from the echo of the heavenly harp in sweetness magnifical and mighty. For I will consider my cat Jeoffry. For he is the servant of the living God, duly and daily serving Him. For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way. For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness. For he knows that God is his savior. For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements. For this is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest. For I am possessed of a cat, surpassing in beauty, from whom I take occasion to bless Almighty God. For the mouse is a creature of great personal valour. For- this is a true case- Cat takes female mouse- males mouse will not depart, but stands threatening and daring. If you will let her go, I will engage you, as prodigious a creature as you are. For the mouse is a creature of great personal valour. For the mouse is of an hospitable disposition....
I would like to remind you again that this entire thing is being sung by a predominantly boys' choir; I also bolded what I found most funny and random. I must admit, as I was trying to follow along and suddenly I saw the line about his cat Jeoffry, I lost it. I looked over at Kelly and saw the smirk on her face and let out a few gasping breaths as I tried to collect myself.
All Duncan could say was thank God Whitney Southwood was not along as well... we would have been excommunicated on the spot... somehow.
Jen, I have to ask you... WHAT?!? Are cats often talked about in Catholic services? I would like you to consider your cat Victor.... :)
After I was certain that I could behave quietly, I whipped out my journal to record a few thoughts. It just so happened that Duncan looked over just as I finished the sentence, "No wonder the Protestants left." He then too had to stifle his laughter. I was only noting that I could not hear what the priest was saying, even with microphones, so I couldn't imagine back in olden times the congregation not being able to hear, or understand Latin.
Anyhow, we made it out without embarrassing ourselves too much, but we couldn't wait to get home and share the cat story.
Duncan and I continued our evening by attending the church service at Urban Junction where Duncan is working. It really took me back to the days of attending youth group at home... and I was delighted to hear Chris Tomlin playing upon entering. We sang a couple of songs that we sing at Northpoint, so I felt right at home.
I also was slagged for the way I talk for the second time in three days. Friday, it was for the way I say "pants". Apparently the Southern twang in my pronunciation of 'a' is worse than I thought. Today as we were leaving the DART station, I was kindly telling the gentleman next to me that the machine he was trying to put his card into was jammed. He said "JAY-AMED?" and laughed. I said, "Yeah, I guess you can tell I'm from the South." He asked where I was from, and when I told him Georgia, he sang it back to me, and that was the end of our exchange.
We enjoyed the drunken singing on the streets as we made our way to our bus.. apparently the Dublin team won. For that we are glad. Better singing than rioting I always say.
Plus, Duncan saw pretty much his favorite fan accessory ever. No, not a giant finger or a cheese hat, not even a flag, but a wanker. A HUGE, foam, quite anatomically accurate wanker, being proudly carried, held aloft, and almost worn by the drunken fan sporting it. Needless to say, Duncan chuckled a bit, and admitted he would pay up to $50 to be the owner of such an appropriately inappropriate prop.
And now we are safely back in our apartment, getting ready for bed.
Goodnight to all, and we'll see you tomorrow!
Cheers,
Whitney (with some slight additions by Duncan. You should be able to tell which ones.)
P.S. Daddy and Dad-- HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, from the Emerald Isle!!!
Also, I am glad you all like the brooch. It has made us even more excited about the wedding!
We made it to City Centre rather safely though (I survived an old woman lunging into me as the bus took off abruptly, as they always do, and she was launched head-first into my stomach). So the three of us headed for St. Patrick's Cathedral. We had a good laugh when we passed Christ Church Cathedral, as a ridiculously long song rang from the church bells. I commented that it would be funny if Christ Church and St. Patrick's were dueling over who could play the longest song... and five minutes later when we arrived to St. Patrick's, sure enough it too was playing a tremendously long song. The same one. And it lasted about 15 minutes. They put Queen to shame! As well, Duncan said that he felt sorry for the people living in the flats across the road, for the fact that they get a free 15-minute overture who knows how many times a day.
"I finally put the baby to rest, Eathan. "
"Wait... what time is it, Katherine?!"
"3:00... why? Oh God... Evensong! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
After a short stroll through the park outside the church, we decided we were ready to tour the cathedral. Luckily (and lucky for you too, for the story you are about to hear) we had arrived just in time for the Evensong service, so were able to enter for free and participate in a Catholic service.
Now imagine, if you will, three little Berry Protestant students, none of who had ever been to a Catholic service before, innocent in our naivety. We were mainly excited to see the inside of the gorgeous cathedral-- it was quite a majestic and very reverent space. When the choir came slowly marching down the aisle, it was a very sensory experience, a very compelling offering to God.
So far, so good.
We were even able to keep up with all of the appropriate times to stand and sit. I found it a bit odd that EVERYTHING was sung... and I stifled a chuckle when the priest sang an entire paragraph using only one note. However, I thought I could go unnoticed until we got to the Anthem. I would like to share with you just a small portion, of which we are copying directly from the bulletin. Imagine this beginning in a very slow hymn, and then suddenly bursting into something resembling a Broadway show-tune, but still very churchy.
...Let David bless with the bear- the beginning of victory to the Lord- to the Lord the perfection of excellence. Hallelujah from the heart of God, and from the hand of the artist inimitable, and from the echo of the heavenly harp in sweetness magnifical and mighty. For I will consider my cat Jeoffry. For he is the servant of the living God, duly and daily serving Him. For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way. For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness. For he knows that God is his savior. For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements. For this is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest. For I am possessed of a cat, surpassing in beauty, from whom I take occasion to bless Almighty God. For the mouse is a creature of great personal valour. For- this is a true case- Cat takes female mouse- males mouse will not depart, but stands threatening and daring. If you will let her go, I will engage you, as prodigious a creature as you are. For the mouse is a creature of great personal valour. For the mouse is of an hospitable disposition....
I would like to remind you again that this entire thing is being sung by a predominantly boys' choir; I also bolded what I found most funny and random. I must admit, as I was trying to follow along and suddenly I saw the line about his cat Jeoffry, I lost it. I looked over at Kelly and saw the smirk on her face and let out a few gasping breaths as I tried to collect myself.
All Duncan could say was thank God Whitney Southwood was not along as well... we would have been excommunicated on the spot... somehow.
Jen, I have to ask you... WHAT?!? Are cats often talked about in Catholic services? I would like you to consider your cat Victor.... :)
After I was certain that I could behave quietly, I whipped out my journal to record a few thoughts. It just so happened that Duncan looked over just as I finished the sentence, "No wonder the Protestants left." He then too had to stifle his laughter. I was only noting that I could not hear what the priest was saying, even with microphones, so I couldn't imagine back in olden times the congregation not being able to hear, or understand Latin.
Anyhow, we made it out without embarrassing ourselves too much, but we couldn't wait to get home and share the cat story.
Duncan and I continued our evening by attending the church service at Urban Junction where Duncan is working. It really took me back to the days of attending youth group at home... and I was delighted to hear Chris Tomlin playing upon entering. We sang a couple of songs that we sing at Northpoint, so I felt right at home.
I also was slagged for the way I talk for the second time in three days. Friday, it was for the way I say "pants". Apparently the Southern twang in my pronunciation of 'a' is worse than I thought. Today as we were leaving the DART station, I was kindly telling the gentleman next to me that the machine he was trying to put his card into was jammed. He said "JAY-AMED?" and laughed. I said, "Yeah, I guess you can tell I'm from the South." He asked where I was from, and when I told him Georgia, he sang it back to me, and that was the end of our exchange.
We enjoyed the drunken singing on the streets as we made our way to our bus.. apparently the Dublin team won. For that we are glad. Better singing than rioting I always say.
Plus, Duncan saw pretty much his favorite fan accessory ever. No, not a giant finger or a cheese hat, not even a flag, but a wanker. A HUGE, foam, quite anatomically accurate wanker, being proudly carried, held aloft, and almost worn by the drunken fan sporting it. Needless to say, Duncan chuckled a bit, and admitted he would pay up to $50 to be the owner of such an appropriately inappropriate prop.
And now we are safely back in our apartment, getting ready for bed.
Goodnight to all, and we'll see you tomorrow!
Cheers,
Whitney (with some slight additions by Duncan. You should be able to tell which ones.)
P.S. Daddy and Dad-- HAPPY FATHER'S DAY, from the Emerald Isle!!!
Also, I am glad you all like the brooch. It has made us even more excited about the wedding!
7 comments:
Haha.. you are right! The two of us laughing is deadly. You would think after attending so many catholic services as a child I would've run across a cat sermon. I'll have to ask the grams.
I'm thankful that the song did not go along these lines...."I consider my cat....Albert.." There's no way that you could have contained yourself with such a line. This is truly a funny story...it made me LOL. Oh yeah...and you gotta love the Irish for having such good taste in contemporary Christian music! Y'all have a good week.
Somehow when I think of "consider my cats Tigger, Gypsy, and Nala" I don't feel spiritually enlightened. That is the most random recap of a church experience I have ever heard. Duncan, if you post a picture of that fan accessory I will send you $50 immediately!
Hello,
Just stumbled on your post.
Very interesting about the service you went to.
I'm a cradle Catholic and consider myself pretty devout.
Let me start off by saying that I have no clue as to why a song about a cat was being sung. I have never heard that in my 37 years.
I did a little research and apparently that song is some old tune written by a guy (Chris Smart) who was on his way to the nut house.
I think there was probably some latitude from the music director of the church as to what choice of song he chooses.
I guess if you reflected on the song, there is something about Christianity in it although I haven't reflected on it that much. Apparently, the poem (and song) is a classic.
haha! There's no fan like a drunken Irish fan, eh? (I'm guessing.)
That's interesting about the sermon, and the comment about it.
We love you!
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