December 29 marked my last day at the latest organist position. I haven't been on the organ bench since, and have experienced a great emotional distancing from the profession. Although happy to quit the position and even helped them find two subsequent organists, I've realized that I will not find another suitable position. Most traditional parishes are reticent to hire a female organist (although I could be wrong), and other parishes would balk at someone who refuses to play Schutte/Haugen/Beelzebub. As mentioned before, I felt strongly and surely that God had called me to this work, but now I see no real evidence of it and wonder if I was misleading myself. Everything that existed in my life during that time-- leading a Catholic choir singing good music, playing proper organ selections, singing for Exposition following Mass, my elder son serving Mass-- is gone. Although I've maintained membership in that church, we rarely attend there and my donations go to whichever church we happen to attend that weekend.
But speaking of attending other churches.....
Since Elder Daughter was on a flight returning to the Closest Big City, we left home quite early and attended the Extraordinary Form (Tridentine) Mass at a church I've wanted to visit for many years. Following traditional Lenten practices, all the statues were covered (which broke the last two Spirit of Vatican II atoms in my heart). The choir was decent enough and the organist was excellent, despite having to hold back things for Lent. The priest spoke with great clarity on crazee things like death and judgment. I appreciated deeply the vertical approach to worship. At the Ordinary Form, the priest is often just another dude on the altar amid the lectors/readers, cantors, Extraordinary Ministers, and sometimes adult servers. The priest, exercising his elevated role as Alter Christus, was not just another dude on the altar; he clearly was leading us in worship and sacrifice. It was so easy to enter deeply into prayer and to realize our union with Christ. And hey--no hand shaking and/or hand grabbing! Bonus. I would be happy to attend this Mass every week.
The next weekend's events led Elder Son and I to the Cincinnati region, where we accidentally happened upon a diaconate ordination at the Cathedral Basilica of the Assumption in Covington, Kentucky. We were excited about it until homily time. There, the bishop said (paraphrased, but very close due to son's amazing memory):
Good Morning!
That's a bit odd for me, because when I was in seminary, my homiletics professor told us "Never, EVER start your homily by wishing someone the time of day." So, for this many years, I haven't done that, but then Pope Francis was elected, and the very first thing he did as Pope was to go on that balcony and say "Good evening".
So then I decided that, if it's good enough for the Pope, it's good enough for me, and besides, my homiletics professor is dead.
*laughter*
We left.
When we crossed the Ohio River in search of the Basilica, we noticed some beautiful church spires and decided to find them, which led us to Mother of God Catholic Church in Covington. Of course, the church was locked up tight, surely due to attending the ordination happening just a few blocks away. We looked up photos later and decided we must go back. Both it and the cathedral basilica are breathtaking.
After visiting the waterfront for some tourist photos, we headed to Old St. Mary's in Cinci, which I've already talked about in a previous post. Unfortunately, Lent struck again, and all of the outstanding statues and crucifixes were covered. First Communion practice and First Confessions were happening which was cute and wonderful.
We then headed to the Cincinnati Zoo, which was reminiscent of Mass in my town.
Finally, the eldest two and I went to Tenebrae at the Cathedral in the diocese next door on Good Friday. The service was 90 minutes of musical bliss (which I'm pretty sure is not the reaction I should have on Good Friday) featuring Renaissance polyphony and Gregorian chant. Their schola is fantastic and we enjoyed it immensely. I've wanted to attend this service for years but was unable due to music obligations.
So we've come full circle back to the subject of music. A few months ago, I attended the recital of someone who sang in my choir back in the day. I was really looking forward to hearing him, and the recital was excellent. Since our mass was eliminated, he joined a "choir" group at the other local parish. I was looking forward (kind of) (ok not really) to seeing people that I know, but the only people who were "happy" to see me were a few of my fellow students from my university choir days. The people from church were not really interested in conversing. Now before you think I'm feeling sorry for myself, this is only an intermediary to another point:
It can be a hard thing to realize that you just aren't important to other people. Perhaps many of us have an inflated ego, or perhaps we think that persons feel the same way about us as we feel about them. The truth is that, generally, other people aren't thinking about you at all. They have their own lives and worries. And so I realized that the people from church at the recital had moved on; there was no more Mary as Friend or Choirmaster or whatever. There were new friends and music leaders who were important to them. And this is completely normal and natural. So Mary needs to move on, but saying it and doing it are two different things. I've come to realize that the hurt and pain from the situation at the previous parish is never going to leave, so figuring out how to just deal with it and move on is a challenge.
And yes, I've prayed and prayed for my heart to be healed and to have a Christian attitude about all of this. The Sacred and Immaculate Hearts have not come to my rescue, so this all must be for my own good. Time will tell.
