Jungle rhythms
Whether it’s the rhythm, the tempo, whatever – music is a powerful force.
It cannot be contained.
It flows through us.
You can’t help but be swayed by it.
Especially when there's a good rhythm section.
Case in point: Wednesday’s mass was for the CCD (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine – basically Catholic education) kids from the parish schools. The second- and third-graders sat in front of me, trying to be good.
It’s a hard thing to do, behave in church (I still have problems); the teachers gave stern looks, and a couple of times, had to grab an arm or two.
The high school kids brought several members of the band and choir to sing.
There was this one third-grader in the front row, Billy, who is either going to be the most popular kid while in high school – or the kid that has his shorts yanked up his ass every day with a wedgie. There is but two paths for this kid (during the sermon, which was directed at the children, Father kept asking questions, and it was Billy’s hand that shot up first. Always. Tells you a lot.)
Anyway, while Father blessed the ashes, the band played. And for the first time, the kid at the drums started getting jiggy with the beat.
Billy grabbed the pew railing and started shaking his head to the beat – it reminded me of a Ramones concert I attended once – and just started rocking.
All of a sudden, the third-grade boys erupted into a mass of shaking and dancing. Stern stares didn’t work; teachers were grabbing arms left and right (while the girls just sort of looked horrified).
It then spread to the kindergartners and the first-graders.
And stopped only when the drummer went back to his guitar.
It was the best Ash Wednesday mass I’ve ever attended.
It cannot be contained.
It flows through us.
You can’t help but be swayed by it.
Especially when there's a good rhythm section.
Case in point: Wednesday’s mass was for the CCD (Confraternity of Christian Doctrine – basically Catholic education) kids from the parish schools. The second- and third-graders sat in front of me, trying to be good.
It’s a hard thing to do, behave in church (I still have problems); the teachers gave stern looks, and a couple of times, had to grab an arm or two.
The high school kids brought several members of the band and choir to sing.
There was this one third-grader in the front row, Billy, who is either going to be the most popular kid while in high school – or the kid that has his shorts yanked up his ass every day with a wedgie. There is but two paths for this kid (during the sermon, which was directed at the children, Father kept asking questions, and it was Billy’s hand that shot up first. Always. Tells you a lot.)
Anyway, while Father blessed the ashes, the band played. And for the first time, the kid at the drums started getting jiggy with the beat.
Billy grabbed the pew railing and started shaking his head to the beat – it reminded me of a Ramones concert I attended once – and just started rocking.
All of a sudden, the third-grade boys erupted into a mass of shaking and dancing. Stern stares didn’t work; teachers were grabbing arms left and right (while the girls just sort of looked horrified).
It then spread to the kindergartners and the first-graders.
And stopped only when the drummer went back to his guitar.
It was the best Ash Wednesday mass I’ve ever attended.
Comments
I got to visit a couple churchs, one of them being a Catholic church right in the Ghetto. They had the tradition priest and altar boys in the usual garb and... a big ol' gospel choir. Coolest. Catholic. Church. EVER.