On September 9, 2007, I visited Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church, and I was fortunate to attend the mass with a couple who were friends of mind and who could help me through the liturgy of the service. The service began with introductory rites, including a greeting, the penitential rites, the Kyrie, and the Gloria. These elements welcome worshipers, remind them of their sinfulness, lead them in pleading for God's mercy, and direct their hearts to worship God. Next came the liturgy of the word, where a lector read an Old Testament passage, we sang a psalm, and the lector read a New Testament reading. We sang worship songs, the priest gave the homily, and we recited the Nicene Creed as a confession of faith. Third was the liturgy of the Eucharist, which began with the presentation of the gifts and the preparation of the altar. Simultaneously at this time, the people gave their gifts and offerings to God while the priest brought out God's gifts to the people of the wine and bread. Then, the priest offered prayers for the gifts, we all recited the Lord's Prayer, we gave the sign of peace to one another, and then the members of the church took communion. Finally, we went through the concluding rites, including the priest's blessing and a dismissal. I learned much during this time.

Upon entering the sanctuary, my friends instructed me to dip my fingers in the holy water and to make the sign of the cross. They later explained to me that Catholics do this as a way of remembering their baptism, and I found the practice to be very meaningful. Where I grew up, I never quite knew how baptism (and the Lord's Supper, for that matter) connected with the normal goings-on in the church, even if I knew that they were important to do. Here, though, every believer has an opportunity to reflect on the reality of their baptism upon entering the church, which brought the sacrament into each worship service, rather than leaving it as something that happened long ago, with an unclear meaning for the present. I am not sure how exactly a Protestant church would go about adding a similar practice to their service, since most Protestants are extremely hesitant to make the sign of the cross or to consider any water to be particularly “holy.” Perhaps something as simple as a reminder of the congregation's baptisms in the call to worship would be meaningful, which might be done by reading Hebrews 10:19-25 and saying something like, “Since our hearts have been sprinkled clean by the blood of Jesus and since our bodies have been washed in baptism, let us draw near to God in worship with a true heart in full assurance of faith.” This would be a great way to incorporate the present reality of one's past baptism in a worship service.

Before we sat down in the pew, my friends showed me how to genuflect, and then we knelt on the kneeling bench to pray in preparation for worship. Of course, a lower-church Protestant would insist that no one needs to go through those rituals to prepare one's heart for worship, but I think that such an argument misses the point. By physically genuflecting and physically kneeling in prayer, my heart was spiritually directed to remember my purpose in being there: the worship of the Lord. This reminded me of the way that my (Presbyterian, PCA) church in Lincoln, NE has a weekly practice where the entire congregation kneels down on the ground during the time of confessing sin. Certainly, God is not more inclined to forgive us of our confessed sin because we happen to be kneeling down, but the physical posture of kneeling greatly helps to remind us of our wretched sinfulness before such a holy God. The physical activity assisted and focused the spiritual activity. Protestants might find it extremely meaningful to incorporate physical activity (other than jumping up and down) into their worship service.

I am almost ashamed, as a Protestant, to say that I found the way in which we read Scripture during the service to be instructive. It is embarrassing to write that I have only attended one church where as much Scripture was read aloud as we read during that Catholic service. Certainly, the majority of sermons I have heard in my life at Protestant churches have been more expositional of the Scriptures than the homily given by the priest, but that is a different matter. I do not know why so many Protestant churches are afraid to use a lectionary to read through the Bible within the context of corporate worship, but we miss out on a different kind of worship experience that comes through the simple act of listening together to the reading of God's word. Ironically, the Catholics have something to teach us Protestants about reading the Bible!

Another thing I noticed during my visit was that there were long pauses between each element of the service. At first, I just thought that someone had missed a cue or that the priest had lost his place, but, upon further reflection, I think those pauses were probably purposeful in order to allow time for contemplation of what was happening. I am so accustomed to well organized, smooth flowing worship services, that I had to force myself to ignore the awkwardness of wondering, “What comes next?” and to think about what had just happened. The priest refused to rush through the service, and I like that choice because it allowed me to appreciate the service more fully than if he had been in a hurry. I think that many churches would do well to resist our current Attention-Deficit Disorder culture by strategically inserting Selah pauses into the worship services.

Next, I really like the link that the Catholic service had between the presentation of our gifts—our tithes and offerings—and the presentation of the gifts of God—the bread and wine for communion. I did not realize that this was happening until reflecting on the order as I began to write this paper, but it seems that this was a very strategically designed element of the service. My church in Birmingham takes up the offering during the section of the service entitled “We renew our commitment to Christ,” which comes right before the reading of Scripture and the preaching of God's word in the section entitled “God speaks to us.” Communion, when we have it (once a month), comes at the end of the service after the sermon. The Presbyterian idea that the grace communicated in the sacrament of communion is the same grace communicated through the word of God is the underlying philosophy here, and this is a good practice. It might, however, inspire fresh worship if we alternated this order a bit by placing communion at different points in the service. We would need to be careful to explain the significance of such a move, but this would likely cause worshipers to look at communion in a different way. Following the lead of the Catholics, we could explain the significance as demonstrating that God is giving the gift of himself to us through communion, and for this reason we can be eager to respond in thankfulness with our tithes and offerings. Not that this is a crass, quid pro quo exchange of goods, but that we are reminded that we give to God because he first gave us everything that we have ever had.

Next, during the liturgy of the Eucharist, I found it interesting that the altar attendants rang a bell while the priest was offering the prayers over the elements, an action which symbolized the miracle of transubstantiation. Now, I do not agree with the doctrine of transubstantiation, so I am not suggesting that we export this practice directly, but the intrusion of the sound of the bell into the midst of the prayers did certainly draw my attention to what was happening. I think that it would be a helpful practice to find a way to have people meditate on the mystery that Christ is really, but spiritually, present in the Lord's Supper, and that to take the meal is to participate in the body (church) of Christ. Perhaps the opposite means—allowing a time of silent reflection, rather than employing some sound, where worshipers are instructed to ponder this mystery of real, spiritual communion with Christ and with the universal church—would be a good way to illustrate our own theology of the Lord's Supper.

Finally, I was struck with the care (and the time!) that the priest took to properly clean out the chalices where the consecrated wine had been. He was in no hurry at all to pour in a bit of water, swirl the water around, drink the water, and then carefully to wipe out the cups with a clean towel. Later, my friends took me behind the front stage/altar to see the sink with a pipe that goes straight into the ground rather than into the sewer, where any remaining consecrated host would be sent as a way of renewing the earth. Again, this reflects a theology with which I do not agree, but I greatly respected the extent to which they carried the implications of their theology of the Eucharist. I think that this is an area in which my denomination is making good strides. My leaders attempt to remind us constantly of what it is that we are doing when we take communion. In my introductory class to become a member of my church here in Birmingham (Faith Presbyterian), the pastor discussed the fact that, because we are participating in the body of Christ, we should be looking around and smiling at one another when we take communion. Furthermore, since communion comes only once a month, my pastor usually takes that one Sunday to preach a message on communion from a different passage of Scripture, trying to slowly work our way, as a congregation, through the many facets of communion that the Bible teaches. The sacrament of communion is something that we take very seriously, and I think that seeing such a different theology of communion taken so seriously (in its own way) encourages us as we practice the implications of our own.

In all, attending a Catholic service for the first time in my life was a very beneficial activity to learn ways that we might enhance worship in my own denomination. The Roman Catholic tradition is, of course, a very rich and ancient legacy, and, even if I do not agree with every jot and tittle of what happens in it, there is much that I can learn from what they do.