This morning was Bruno's, at a very 1970's-ish Catholic church in Riverside RI. I was struck by the front of the church, behind the sanctuary. There was a huge series of square, grey granite columns reaching up towards a crinolated white ceiling. But here was the weird part: between the columns was an unabashedly modern stained glass of Christ on the cross. The image was broken by these many stone columns. I sat in the quiet and tried to figure out what in the world the architect was trying to convey by this. Was this supposed to show the intersection of the earth with God? Is that what this space was supposed to be?
I am not sure.
The service was ok.
I have come to realize that I can now respond appropriately when the priest says something because there is really not much difference between an Episcopal mass and a Catholic one. My friend Michelle, who sat next to me, might have been surprised when I knew all the words by heart to the various songs and prayers.
One thing is different though. During communion, instead of going to the rail, I knelt in the pew and prayed for unity in the Church.
We went with the family to the cemetery, and to a lunch after. It was a cold, rainy day.
Comfort Bruno's wife, Isabel, in her loss. Be with the family as they struggle to understand his suffering.