I've Been In A Church

For various reasons I have been thinking about weddings. Well, I say "various reasons", but it's really quite simple: until a few weeks ago I had never been to a marriage or associated ceremony outside the brethren, and now I am partway through a sequence of three in a month and a half. That might not be much of a cause for a blog posting on its own. What is, and has been going around my mind, is that the one wedding now in my experience was a full-scale Catholic one. So it also combines with my first religious service since leaving, and my first ever experience of a church in action. Also my first in Spanish, just to add to the oddity.

Actually, I'm glad it wasn't in English. It was weird enough to be part of a foreign type of worship (and I use "foreign" in the sense of being strange to me, not because I was in another country!) without having my ears filled with an alternative style of worship. The sights and sounds were enough by themselves.

For a start, I was distracted by the architecture, by the prolific decorations and artwork, and by the people. It was a church. Churches, for me, are quite distinct from places of worship, and it was hard to be convinced that people listening to a man in a robe, in antique vaulted building with artwork everywhere, could be entirely serious about what they were doing. Not that I doubt them, just that at some deep level it was weird to me.

I can't be sure how much of the congregation were there for the wedding, and how many were present just because it was a public church, but there was quite a variety of degrees of devotion on display. Some people were dressed up and looked as though the service was something they were obliged to endure until the party started, while others followed every event with visible emotion. And there was a sprinkling of slightly strange-looking people in old clothes who seemed to be enjoying nothing but some time indoors, and certainly took no part in the goings-on.

The service, besides being a wedding, included a mass. That's a pretty heavy way to begin religion outside the brethren. Not that I took part, naturally. My involvement was limited to listening for the Spanish to stand up and sit down, and learning the Spanish for kneeling. At other times I took photographs without waiting for instruction, and that too was very odd - I couldn't escape the feeling that I was "getting away with it" by openly holding a large camera ... and USING IT.

My notes of the time say that it was colourful, solemn and musical. Colourful because of the painted statues, the pastel ceiling and arches, the paintings and the huge display beyond the action at the front. Solemn because of the unexpected - to me - intensity of the ritualistic aspect. I am accustomed to sincerity of religion being measured by the amount of heartfelt spontaneity, and here it seemed to be by the longstanding tradition of the smallest aspect of what was done and said. The contrast could hardly be greater. Musical, because they did that bit properly. There was a choir, two lead singers in evening dress (the male one had all the affectations of an opera performer, too), and a small set of musicians. Very enjoyable, even if I didn't understand a word.

I'm not leading to any great conclusion here. Maybe the most I can say is that I have been avoiding organised religion, and my first encounter has left me unscarred but unconvinced. I think the other two-thirds of the wedding session will be secular, so I'll see how they compare. I'm pondering making some weekend cash by photographing weddings, so I'm all out to learn what I can.