Saarisburg goes to Mass

This morning brought me to an unusual place. A place of pomp and circumstance, of kneeling and standing, of repetition and somber reflection. This morning I went to Mass.

Being of the protestant persuasion, Mass was something of a mystery to me, and I tried not to stand out too much. My son, who attends the catholic school and was the reason for the trip to Mass, tried his best to avoid the embarrassment of seeing his parents not know exactly when to say, "and unto you."

But I simply could not keep up with the reverent tone when I witnessed what will be forever a favorite memory.

During a portion of the ceremony, congregates are asked to turn to each other and say "Peace." While watching the first grade class shake hands with each other, which is in itself unusual, I saw a girl lock eyes with someone two rows behind her — too far to reach. She raised her right hand slightly, made the internationally known symbol of peace with two outstretched fingers and tapped them gansta style to her left shoulder before holding them out toward the person two rows back.

Now that is bringing the church into the 21st century if you ask me.