Coming Home for the First Time

Coming Home for the First Time
by Jenni Backs

The first time I walked into the gathering space, for the 1:30/Spanish Mass, my heart was pounding and my palms were sweating.

That I would be nervous walking into this space that I had known so well for 30 years was something I didn’t anticipate; it was disorienting. I entered into not just a church, but a language and culture I didn’t know, and faces I had never seen before. Immediately, and unexpectedly, I was a stranger. I wondered if I had made a mistake in coming. Do I belong here? But moments after my arrival, I was greeted warmly by every person I passed. I was greeted as if I were home, and not just a guest at this Mass. And that’s an important distinction.

Making my way to take a seat, I sat in the very back pew, instead of the front rows I usually chose. I felt almost compelled to draw as little attention to myself as possible, even though I knew I stood out. I picked up a Missal, a copy of the homily in English, and a laminated guide to the Mass in Spanish. But even with these helps, I felt deeply awkward. I kept my head bowed in the hopes that no one would notice my mouth stumbling over words. And sometimes the language moved so fast, I just stayed quiet. During that hour I felt awkward, embarrassed and displaced; nothing came natural to me. But, make no mistake, by the time I left the church that day I had a new tia (aunt), many new hermanos (brothers and sisters), and the offer of an authentic Venezuelan dinner. People went out of their way to smile, greet, or give me a hug – lots of hugs.

Over the months, as I continued to attend the 1:30 Mass, I experienced a deepening and rich sense of family. Now experiencing the whole of my OLG family, I was truly home.

A Mass in Spanish at OLG has not always been available. Roughly 14 years ago Mass was celebrated in Spanish once a month, with about 20-40 people attending. Several years later the Evangelization Team, what we now know as the Hispanic Ministry, was formed and home visits and outreach began. In 2 years, the Mass grew from roughly 150-300 people, then to 300-500 people.

For over a decade I had been innocently unaware of a large part of my OLG family. But now I started wondering about little things like, "Why do I call it Spanish Mass, and not just 1:30 Mass?" In the same way that a friend of mine wondered why his child, on paperwork, was listed as a “Hispanic Candidate” for his first communion. Why not just, “Candidate?” Of course, there are sometimes practical reasons for these descriptions. But too often we are stopped by the label, and what we think we know about it.

According to Timothy Matovina, a Notre Dame theologian, many of us (myself included) who are of European descent had immigrant ancestors who were dependent on the church - everything from social life and education to orienting to a new life in a new society. The church was EVERYTHING. Now that we (non-immigrants) have been here for generations our church life has gone into maintenance mode.

But the Latino church is not in maintenance mode. It’s in mission mode. Many of us have forgotten what it’s like to be in mission mode. And, with that, we too often have a mindset of welcome, and not one of homecoming. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being welcoming; it’s an important and courteous thing to do.  But it can sometimes (without any bad intent) give the message that while you are a welcome guest, you are still just a visitor and you don’t belong. Matovina suggests we shift our mindset from “one of hospitality to one of homecoming.” And that was the important distinction I experienced at my first 1:30 Mass. I was made to feel, not like a visitor to the Mass, but that I had (finally) arrived home. Despite my nervousness and fear, I was received like I belonged.

I’m writing this to encourage all you non-Latino friends to not bypass the Spanish portion of the bulletin. Even if you don’t speak the language, there are ways to translate and find out what’s going on. Find out what events are happening, and attend one. You have a standing and open invitation. And whether it’s an event, or the Mass, you will always be able to find someone to help you with the language. So please don’t let that be the reason you don’t come.

Most importantly, come to the 1:30 Mass. Change the thinking that says this Mass is not for you; it is. As much as the other five Masses celebrated every weekend, the 1:30 Mass is for you, and for all of us, not just for some of us. It holds a rich culture, and shines a beautiful aspect of our one human personality in Christ.

For those who are concerned with not being able to follow the Mass because of a language barrier, I would offer this: There is movement in the ritual of the Mass that transcends language. It’s an opportunity to let yourself trust the Mass, and the heart of the human family around you. In the end, we always meet and understand one another in the Eucharist. 

Nos vemos en la Eucaristia.