Someone came to pick me up in a Jeep kind of thing, and when I asked what time Mass would be, he said "When you get there, Father", as if it was the most obvious answer. First leson of the day - we are obsessed with time. Clock time that is, the time by our watches and clocks. When we reached Trafalgar, the whole village was already there in the square, chatting and laughing, men on one side, women on the other. After lots of smiling greetings and a little while after I disappeared into the sacristy, they slowly made their way in too. Lesson #2 - the celebration of Mass grew from their own gathering, a natural progression. When I got to the sacristy I was greeted by a lady in her 30s I would say, who introducd herself as the pastoral leader there. She told me everything I needed to know about celebrating Mass there, and clearly knew it all herself . She was charming and exactly what a priest wants when you waft into a strange sacristy. I discovered she had a diploma from the island's Pastoral Institute (the chapel below don't forget the whole population was only 75,000, yet it supported such a place). Lesson #3 - invest in your people. At the end of her ultra-helpful chat she asked how many hymns I would like, clarifying that she meant at the beginning of Mass. "Whatever is usual" I answered, a bit quizzically. Sometimes they had two, sometimes three, just at the beginning before the rest of the Mass! Lesson #4 - let the music help the celebration, build the community.
As with the Mass I took part in at San Sauveur with the Caribs, there was tremendous joy and deep reverence. With that and with the lessons I learned, I felt I received far more than I gave. As so often in life and priesthood, you go expecting to give, you come back overflowing with what you have received. The lady at Trafalgar politely turned down my offer that if she ever wanted a job in my parish back home...
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