Saturday, January 30, 2010
It was like Saturdays in the past. Sunday would be packed with activity so we needed to go to church on Saturday evening. We’d pack up the family and head to neighboring Theresa, Wisconsin to St. Theresa’s Catholic Church. St. Theresa’s was known throughout the area for their 30-minute farmer mass on Saturday evenings. This was great for us farmers. When the cows were waiting for milking back home, but you didn’t want to miss church, you could rush in grab a sermon and Communion, and get back to the cows.
This time I didn’t need to get back to milk the cows, but I did have a busy day planned for Sunday. I pulled out the Yellow Pages, popped open the laptop, and began combing the church listings for Saturday services.
It seems the more fundamentalist churches shy away from Saturday services. From my research Catholics were the main Saturday church-goers; then the Lutherans; and then some Episcopalians. Since I was formerly Catholic and I recently attended an Episcopalian service, I chose Bethel Lutheran Church at 312 Wisconsin Avenue in Downtown Madison.
Going to grade school and junior high at St. Mary’s Catholic School in Mayville, Wisconsin, the only other religion in town seemed Lutheran to me. Non-Catholic friends of mine were all Lutherans as far as I knew. There were, and still are, three to four Lutheran churches in Mayville, compared to one Catholic church. To my young brain if you weren’t Catholic, you were Lutheran. As my feeble brain matured, I realized there were other Christian denominations in Mayville, they were just smaller in numbers.
In fact, I always looked at Lutherans as rebellious Catholics anyway. I remember learning in religion class at St. Mary’s that Martin Luther was an ordained Catholic priest or monk or something who decided to go off on his own and start his own brand of Christianity with a King James Bible he translated into the “people’s language;” German. How much of what I learned from St. Mary’s is true, I don’t know. But to add further to the discrepancy of my views of Lutheranism, I remember reading somewhere that Luther received his spiritual revelation while sitting on the commode backed up with stifling constipation. From my recent research, this may be true, and it appears they found the toilet.
Funny thing, growing up Catholic with Lutherans all around, I don’t remember ever going to a single Lutheran Sunday service. I have faint memories of a wedding or a funeral or two, but never a typical Sunday service. My dominant recollection of a Lutheran service is my Uncle and Aunt’s wedding. And that’s because it stands out in such contrast with my upbringing. Her family, like mine, is Catholic, so for them to get married in a Lutheran church with a Lutheran minister and a Lutheran service stood out in my youth. The Roman Catholic Church doesn’t take divorce lightly and doesn’t allow re-marriage without jumping through some flaming hoops. Due to my uncle’s divorce from his first wife and an awaiting annulment, they decided to marry within a Lutheran setting. Later, post-annulment, they received the Catholic Church’s blessing of the wedding bonds.
After mulling through the church listings on Saturday night, I headed to Bethel for their 5:00pm service. At Bethel, the Saturday service takes place in the Pentecostal Room, a side room from the sanctuary itself. Decorated minimally with iconic Christian motif, the space featured windows bearing painted flames emblazoned with the biblical text: “Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit…” (Acts 2: 3-4). Water-colored abstracts adorned with biblical quotes ornamented the surrounding walls. Rows of folding chairs clustered before a lectern and a piano.
Taking a seat in the back of the packed house, I quickly opened my hymnal and joined in the singing. The highlight of Saturday services at Bethel is piano accompaniment instead of the typical pipe organ. We progressed through 3-4 hymns before settling down to prayers. It seems many Christian services start with, “In the name of the Father, and of the son, and of the Holy Spirit.” “Amen.”
The order of activities was similar to the Catholic mass: opening prayers, greeting, a reading, a gospel, a sermon. The gospel featured a story from Luke. Returning to his hometown, Nazareth, Jesus was faced with hopeful crowds expecting miracles and cures. When Jesus didn’t display his magical powers the crowd became upset. “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s home town,” Jesus realized. The crowd then became unruly and chased him out of town. Success is bittersweet. On that note, Pastor Bill gave a typical sermon, or as we Catholics would have called it, “a homily.” Success is based on faith, hope, and love, not money, power, and prestige. Nothing too complex or radical; just plain matter of fact.
We then moved into something called the Offertory Prayer thanking God for everything He’s given us, including His own Son “who offered himself for us.” For the most part the service was pretty typical Christian material, nothing too radical or inspiring. Soon we were reciting the Lord’s Prayer. If you are or were any Christian faith, you have it memorized to the point of easy recitation. Big difference: Lutherans, like most Christians reciting the Lord’s Prayer, say the complete version with “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever” ending the prayer. Catholics break it up a little bit with the priest jumping in prior to the conclusion stating, “Deliver us Lord, from every evil blah, blah, blah.” And the Catholic congregation then jumps in with the thrilling conclusion.
With the Lord’s Prayer complete Pastor Bill made some announcements revealing a very active parish filled with a food pantry needing volunteers, a youth group performing a concert for future missions, bible study during the week, a couples club, and much, much more. We were then allowed to “Go in peace,” after a rousing hymn. All of this in roughly 35-40 minutes. It was like night mass at St. Theresa all over again, just no Communion. I was out the door and heading home refreshed with the knowledge of what the majority of Mayvillites experience every week.
Back In Church 