Holy Cross Parish, Durham NC

I meet a lot of people who think Catholics in America are all white, and pretty much either Polish or Irish. I also meet a lot of people who think masses are all about getting in there, getting some Jesus, and getting home as soon as possible.

But Holy Cross Parish is not one of those places. I first visited this parish when a close friend of mine came into full communion with the church at an Easter Vigil, a long and beautiful worship service that marks one of the highest holy days in the church calendar. Holy Cross, I discovered, has several affinities to a Black Baptist or AME church, but, well, it's Catholic.

I walked into a tiny, tiny church and sat with a couple of friends on the left side. There was only room for a few rows of pews on the right and the left, and the Easter Vigil is so well attended here that the overflow will have to go to the small building where Sunday catechesis is held. They will watch the services on television. (Note: Since that first time I attended Holy Cross, they have been able to build a new building and I hope someday I will be able to return and see it!)

The first thing I noticed was the hospitality - I was one of the few white people and felt a bit out of my cultural milieu but people were so welcoming and hospitable. This is not the first predominantly African American worship service I've attended, by the way. As a United Methodist, I worked for a Pan-Methodist youth group and attended many, many African American worship services. So I was interested now, as a Catholic, to find out whether the musical traditions I'd encountered before would be here, too.

And they were - we sang hymns I hadn't sung since I'd been working for the youth group - I wish I could remember exactly, but they were hymns like "Marching to Zion" and "Amazing Grace". Plus, there were trumpets and loud joyous music, and clapping. What I loved best was the way the priest celebrated the sacraments - he was generous and abundant with blessing us with water (I was dripping wet), and with pouring the oil on my friend who was confirmed. It reminded me more than a little about the abundance that Jesus promises.

The priest's homily was a bit odd - he spoke about Second Isaiah quite a bit, and I found myself thinking, "If I hadn't been to seminary and learned about how scholars think the Book of the Prophet Isaiah has three distinct parts - first, second and third Isaiah - I'd be a bit lost now." So it was a rather scholarly sermon, probably fitting for the Jesuit priest in charge of the parish ;-). I imagine the priest had at some point introduced what Second Isaiah meant, though?

After the vigil (which lasted a few hours) we had a lovely banquet with food and drink, to celebrate the new people joining the church. It was a fabulous Easter all in all. I went back to that parish a few times since my friend joined, and I would say none of the masses matched the "all white" and "short" description I mentioned above.