 |
Photo by Stan Dursflor
(Is it a sin to take pictures in church when you've been told not to?)
Photography is not allowed during church services, but then we remembered what Stan'sbrother-in-law, the Rev. Ron Letnes, would do. So we went ahead and squeezed off this one . . . but only after The Rev. Quentin Moody had announced "Mass is over, go in Peace." Nobody left, of course, because the music was far from over, so there was still plenty of time for singing, visiting and a lot more photos. |
We don't know who "Jane P. from Minneapolis" is, but this is what she wrote last month on an internet TripAdvisor site after she attended Mass at St. Augustine Catholic Church. We went to the same service today and Jane P. definitely got it right. We say Amen to everything she said . . . and of course, we'll say more. :)
I attended a service at St Augustine this past weekend and I struggle to even find the words to explain this amazing experience. I have never felt so uplifted in my life!!! There is something magical about this place, the people, the beautiful gospel choir, the love, the peace, the sharing. The priest's sermon brought me to tears. As a visitor I felt so welcome! Everyone in our group felt this same way. When I go back to New Orleans again in April I will not miss this service. Make the time.
 |
| She offered a warm welcome . . . and hand sanitizer |
The property on which St. Augustine stands was once part of the Claude Tremé plantation. The church is located a block from North Rampart Street and the French Quarter. It was designed by the French architect J.N.B. de Pouilly, who worked on the expansion and renovation of the more famous St. Louis Cathedral on Jackson Square. The church was dedicated on October 9, 1842.
 |
| Bill and Sheila of New Orleans beside St. Augustine |
St. Augustine is only about five miles from where we are staying, but it's much further than that from our personal cultural backgrounds, particularly in regards to expectations of what constitutes a church service. Church regulars we met on the church grounds, Bill and Sheila, understand that. They live in suburban New Orleans now, in an all-white church parish. Sheila spent most of her life in Minnesota and Grand Forks, North Dakota. Now she and Bill drive every week to this parish in Treme, just a block away from the French Quarter.
They bring a tambourine.
The dominant sound in today's service came from a saxophone, totally outside of anything we've experienced before. It was moving, often indiscernible from the human voice, as it coaxed and promised and supported the message. There were keyboards too and a complete drum set that punctuated almost everything, but not quite. There were no rim shots during Father Quentin's homily.
Perhaps the most moving part of the service came when the congregation joined hands all around and slowly, reverently, with arms upraised, together sang the Lord's Prayer, each phrase becoming a separate, distinct offering. It is very difficult to sing this when your throat has a huge, joyful lump in it.
"If they would have started in on 'Amazing Grace' I would have totally lost it," Kathleen confessed, wiping a tear.
Catholics everywhere love to turn about in their pews and nod and say to everyone close by "Peace Be With You." It's nice, even for an old crabby Lutheran, to do. At St. Augustine they raise this to the next level, bouncing from pew to pew, shaking hands, hugging, loving. The lady in front us just returned from breast cancer surgery. She has now survived cancer. . . and the smothering the congregation gave her today. When all the touching had subsided, our pewmate thoughtfully shared some hand sanitizer with us. Another nice touch.
 |
| "This Little Light of Mine" -- The acolyte sang too |
 |
| St. Therese and the Eldest Soloist |
At this point the music takes total control of the sacristy until the conclusion of the service. Then there are greetings to visitors (We stand and get a hand), and announcements, ("There will be a dance on Friday. . . if you're thinking of not coming because you don't know how to dance, there will be teachers."). The congregation sings to its birthday celebrants, prays for hurting and dying members, and then goes back to more music.
After two hours of church on an antique wooden pew, you'd expect we'd be ready to leave by now. We were not.
After two hours of church on an antique wooden pew, you'd expect we'd be ready to leave by now. We were not.
They'll do it again next Sunday, and we'll be there. Early.
 |
| The Archbishop wants to close St. Augustine. It costs $5000 a week to keep it open. Pity. There were a couple hundred at services today. The place is packed with special guests during Mardi Gras. |
