A Very Special Mass in Kerala

Today we visit the Back Waters of Kerala. I decided last night to attend the local Catholic Church for mass. It was barely light when Catherine and I headed out the gates of the Marari Beach Hotel. We fell into a procession of people walking down the road headed to church. There was no traffic on the road and the people we saw were walking quietly but with purpose. Men, women and children coming from both directions started turning off the road and moving into the steepled church.

We left our shoes at the door and made our way into the church. Most of the congregation is sitting on the floor but we notice two sets of pews in the back of the church. Men were seated on the left and women on the right. I had on my pristine white linen pants so I quickly made my way to sit in one of the pews. Catherine sat several rows behind me. We are a few minutes early so we have a chance to watch as the church begins to fill. It is 6:40 and mass is scheduled to begin at 6:45.

The church itself is like many churches at home; an alter in front with Jesus on the cross above it, the stations of the cross along the side walls, flowers all across the front and a picture of the Virgin Mary framed in red and yellow flashing lights. (Actually my church at home displays Mother Mary a little differently!) The priest walks in and everyone rises when mass begins.

The music is uniquely Indian, a mixture of the sitar and organ with a distinct beat and melody. Before me are hundreds of brightly covered heads and I notice the church is filled, many standing outside. PANIC: I notice that everyone sitting in the pews is 80+ years old.......but me! All the women are in beautiful saris and covering their heads with colorful scarves. I am in my white linen pants and nothing with which to cover my head. I know God does not care but what about the 80 year old woman sitting next to me? I slowly turn and look at her....she smiles. I smile and let out a sigh of relief.

After Mass

Another Catholic Church in Kerala

The alter boy looks 18 and I smile as I think of my boys who were alter boys until they were 18. They still haven't forgiven me for constantly volunteering them for 6am mass. The gifts presented at the offering - fire, incense and flowers - are much like the offerings we have seen the Hindus make at the temples. The babies crying and the young children looking over their mother's shoulders are no different from those sitting in my church in Atlanta, Georgia.

The only difference between us is that difference we create in our minds. With faith, an open mind and a gentle spirit we are all of one God. Peace be with you, Amen.

M