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Tourist on Earth

Posted by Miko on November 19th, 2006 at 3:32 pm · 5 Comments

Somewhere I read about a person who saw a bumpersticker that said “tourist on earth” and this made him contemplate what being a tourist meant. To him, it meant: seeing everything as new, being open to whatever experience comes, and appreciating the things that are appreciated by the locals. This is much paraphrased and informed by what I felt when I read his story. Anyone has the original, please link to it in the comments…

We had guests from Oregon (recently, previously Northern California) stay Saturday night with us. On Sunday morning, one of them wanted to go to her favorite church on the West Coast (she’s from Michigan, I’m not sure where she used to enjoy church). She lamented not finding a place like it in either Oregon or Northern California. So I went, as a tourist, to a Catholic Mass this morning. I wanted to see what it was that she saw in it, what she couldn’t find anywhere else.

As we walked in, I realized that it was a church I’d been to before: one of my sisters goes to the earlier mass each Sunday. But I saw it with new eyes. Eyes that wanted to be there, rather than eyes just being there because the eyes’ owner’s family wanted her there. I noticed soft lines, circles, vesicae, and even vines! along with the more masculine hard lines, rectangles, and spears *rolls eyes*. When we sat down, she thanked me for joining her, saying that she likes going to church with someone, which is why she always tries to drag her (stolidly irreligious) husband. But, she continued, she likes this church because even if she comes by herself, she never feels as though she’s there alone. After the cantor walked us through the slightly-longer-than-usual responsorial psalm (distressing how quickly the nomenclature comes back to me…), she told me that this was one of the reasons she liked this community: everyone sang, not just the choir and a few loud singers. And so I sat through a Catholic Mass. I still took issue with many of the prayers (she often substituted “God” for “He”, which made me feel slightly better) and with the presence of Paul’s Letters to Anyone (but that is a subject for a whole nother post) so prominent, but it was a good mass.

And it was nice to be a tourist in what used to be my home faith.

Tags: Christianity · OC Pilgrimage

5 responses so far ↓

  • 1 John // Nov 19, 2006 at 6:43 pm

    I’ve had this experience before. I went back to my LDS congregation after three months of visiting a variety of other churches, and was able to appreciate the meeting with the same generosity I extended to members of other faiths. When viewed from some distance away, flaws are harder to see.

  • 2 pilgrimgirl // Nov 19, 2006 at 10:06 pm

    Miko, I agree with you and John on this. Somehow it’s easier to enjoy church after a bit of distance.

    FWIW, I enjoy Catholic mass. The pageantry is beautiful to me. I don’t think too hard about gender issues and such. I just let the experience wash over me.

  • 3 Jonathan // Nov 20, 2006 at 8:23 am

    When I was in collage, I had a close friend who was Catholic, the first Catholic person I had ever met or talked to in my life. Our first discussions on religion were the usually the Catholic vs. Protestant type, but we quickly overcame that stupidity. We decided it would be fun to go to each others churches. It was a culture shock for the both of us to say the least. My friend’s visits to my church ended quickly – he stormed out and never went back, but I really enjoyed going to mass at his churches. Pittsburgh, PA had 2 very beautiful churches, which we both went to on average of twice a month.

    I really enjoyed each visit and just took it all in with intense pleasure. I didn’t mind at all when I did not partake in communion, even when almost everyone else did. These doctrinal differences had melted away long ago when my friend and I saw the silliness in it.

    The turning point of being a tourist in the Catholic church was when I decided that simply appreciating the building and the sermons and songs was not enough. Part of being a tourist was getting to know the the ‘locals’ too. My friend and I then attended a bible study there, which amazed me that one even existed, and then I was floored when numerous other attendents discussed their spiritual lives. My beliefs of Catholics being anti-spiritual melted away – they enjoyed a more closer walk with God then even I did.

    Not long after, I then arranged a meeting with the priest for a friendly discussion about the strange Catholic traditions and beliefs (from my protestant point of view.) We had a blast. I was not just getting a tour of a beautiful building, but a tour of the Catholic spiritual worldview – the priest was a great man – very sensitive to these touchy subjects.

    My final visit to a Catholic church was years later with a friend and a girl I liked at the time. I was sitting enjoying the service when someone came up to me and asked me to take the sacraments up to the priest. I was stunned. As an outsider just visiting, I didn’t want to desecrate a ritual. I immediately told him I wasn’t really a Catholic, but he smiled and told me it didn’t matter. So without further questions, up I went, beaming, up the center isle, to give the sacraments to the priest. I wondered if people knew that I was just a protestant and not a Catholic? I handed the sacraments to the priest, who was very old, and then returned quickly to my seat.

    Looking back on that experience today, I feel that I passed between just being a mildly interested ‘outsider’ tourist to one that becomes a ‘local’ of sorts. We had a common bond, something that went beyond the divides between our two sects. We were able to appreciate our differences. We are all trying to find truth, and that divine spark within us draws us together and melts away the doctrinal divides so that we can rejoice and find hope.

    I have so many other stories – my visits and experiences of Catholic churches in Israel, Sharing Shavuot at an orthodox Jewish family’s house, spending time with my Indian friend at a Pittsburgh temple. Each tourist visit was beautiful – but it was the people who were spiritually alive that made it so for me.

  • 4 Miko // Nov 20, 2006 at 10:44 am

    That priest sounds like someone I would love to sit down with. If I ever go back to the place that I really do consider my “home” church (an English community in the crypts of St. Bonifaz in Munich), I would love to take my motorcycle-riding-tattooed-monk of a priest out for a bier and actually talk to him. He was such a great guy and, really, one of the reasons I stuck with it for so long. I’d like to pick his brain.

  • 5 nee // Nov 20, 2006 at 9:53 pm

    Distance brings a lot of clarity – and generosity – as someone mentioned. It’s also liberating.

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