Church

            I take my place in the pew, not kneeling and crossing myself as do all of the other patrons of this service.  I don’t know what to do and I feel anxious.  I shouldn’t be in this place but I promised Andrew I would accompany him.  Why did I agree to this again?  I fidget in my seat and my eyes move to the organ that is above us on a balcony.  The choir is singing but of course I don’t know any of the words.  Andrew smiles at me and kneels in the pew to pray.  Should I pray?  Am I even allowed to pray?

            The singing grows louder and echoes off each wall before reverberating through my body.  I smell something strong, and I realize the bishop is swinging a metal ball of incense through the center aisle of the church.  It probably has a special name and I feel bad that I don’t know what it is but how could I know?  Andrew has told me it is fine that I go to church but I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me.  Obviously there is no way anyone knows that I am not Catholic, but maybe they can sense it.

            The cantor leads the crowd in another hymn but I remain silent.  After a few more readings the bishop gives a homily about Steve Jobs death and how he was a prophet of technology and something about believers and non believers.  I keep fidgeting.  There is so much kneeling and standing and sitting during this service and I am always one step behind.  All of the hand-shaking took me off guard as well.  I glare at Andrew a tiny bit when this is over, angry that he didn’t warn me about that.  I remember I am in church and I should not be angry at anyone.  He gives me an apologetic look.  I will tell him I am sorry later.  Now it is time to receive communion and I know I cannot go up to the front and eat that wafer.  For sure, someone will realize I am not part of this faith and scold me for pretending.  Andrew tries to tell me to go up but I refuse.  He also tells me to stop making a big ordeal out of all of this but what else am I supposed to do?   After one hour, the service is over and I breathe a sigh of relief.  I probably did panic more than was warranted, but participating in a service led by the Archbishop of Baltimore in the oldest cathedral in the United States is bound to make a person nervous.