There’s something about waking up at 7am in the morning on Saturday, going for breakfast somewhere then heading off for a morning Novena session at 9am. Just for those moments and until I reach home at about 11, time seems to come to a halt. I don’t exactly see things or hear sounds that people don’t, but I feel a sense of emptiness that isn’t all unpleasant – like I’m in the middle between waking up and still in a dream. Even when it’s uncomfortable when the radiant morning sun is burning away my skin if I can’t find a seat, there’s this calm feeling that eases the discomfort. And when I close my eyes sometimes I do feel myself drifting off to sleep but never losing my balance.
And there’s something majestic about hearing the entire congregation sing a song together. I think church songs are a genre that’s better heard when a group of people sing it than a single individual with vibrato and other vocal techniques. And oddly, it’s better if not everyone’s in tune with each other because it adds an element of realism to it. Which is why the hymns are the parts I look forward to most, although the most amusing part has to be the reading of the petitions and the thanksgiving letters – of course smirking at the fact that every single week there’re almost 3-4 times as many petitions as thanksgiving letters because we humans are quick to request and slow to show gratitude.
I don’t dislike going to church – it’s just the gravitational hurdle of my bed that’s subjectively a few times stronger, especially on an early weekend morning.
