It's good to be back home. Even when you actually don't have a home there. I felt excited while I was on my way to Toledo for Christmas (and also for having a change from Carbondale). Although this snow storm interrupted a lot of my plans (including biking around the city and the places I liked), I still managed to enjoy my time. And I could meet some professors and friends. And I should thank my friends and hosts who gave me rides to some of the places I wanted to go.
I had planned a very crammed schedule to visit as many churches as possible over my stay. The icy streets didn't let me enjoy my Sunday for that matter. But I was lucky and the weather got a little bit warmer, a little bit below freezing on Christmas Eve and I could visit some churches riding my former bike (that now belongs to one of my friends).
I began my Christmas itinerary with Cedar Creek church. As a result of my busy workload last year, I was not able to make it there over Christmas 2007. I was keen to know after all the commercial advertisement they had made (which I had criticized in my Snow, Worship and Technology post), how this special service was different from their ordinary services. I already knew that their Christmas service (like all others) will be laden with Rock music. But when I visited their Toledo campus this year, I found it amusing to see the strong presence of tradition in this contemporary corporate church. And the contrast between traditional and modern elements was interesting.
The stage decorations were more or less traditional (not the typical Rock concert setting of every week). Even the dancing lights and mist were not as overbearing as always. And there was one archetype of traditional Christmas Eve that they had not been able to forgo: candles. By the end of the service, we passed the light to each other. But still, modernity was not giving its ground easily; instead of passing the light from a big candle at the altar (read stage here) and using that to light the other candles, the ushers would use their handheld electric lighters to light the candle of each person at the head of any row (me for example) and that person would pass on the light to the people in their vicinity. After all, when you embrace McDonaldization of religion, efficiency is an important factor and you have to save time; you have to provide service to such a big quantity of customers of spirituality, even if it comes at the expense of the quality of such a deep meaningful tradition.
And in a Christmas service, you expect to hear some Christmas carols. And Carol of the Bells is one of my favorites. But when you're in a modern church, you have to listen to the Rock version of any song, in this case, the one performed by Trans-Siberian, also known as Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24. Watch it here. Ditto for What Child is This (my most favorite carol). Please. Leave this one alone. Does everything has to be modernized? But still, the original versions of these carols have been so deeply etched in my memory that my brain could still reconstruct the original feeling while I was listening to the Rock remakes. Watch here for an instrumental version and here for a choral version. And here and here are Rock samples.
After this modern Christmas service, I moved on to a more moderate service at Hope Lutheran, my first church when I landed in the US and where I made my first Toledoan friends. My experience this year was more or less like my Christmas 2007. As I had reserved 11 pm spot for Grace Lutheran, I had to attend Hope Lutheran for 7 pm service, just like last year. And just like last year, this Festival Worship was very short and modest and as Pastor Tom referred to it, without much special music. And I enjoyed listening to Pastor Tom's sermon on God's Backstage Entrance, giving a modern narration/interpretation of the Nativity. And as always, his preaching style was more like lecturing. No surprise I always enjoy his sermons.
I couldn't see many of my old friends. Yet, it was still good to meet Pastor Tom and Pastor Bill. And it was a surprise for both to see me after such a long time leaving Toledo. And as I had no home in Toledo this year, just like my first days in Toledo in 2006, I could relive all those feelings. Looking around the sanctuary of my first church, I could remember all those feelings of being a new guy in town in a foreign country. And feeling like that in a church that I used to visit frequently was odd. Associative memory can do weird things.
The next shift for my work was Christ the King Roman Catholic Church. While I was in Toledo, I was eager to visit the church. Actually, I had briefly visited the empty church once and it looked somehow like a modern Catholic church. Well, not as modern as Corpus Christi University Parish, maybe somewhere between modern and traditional. But I don't know why I never scheduled a visit during a mass. I had heard that people in this church are kinda snobbish and over that brief visit, those few people around the office didn't bother to greet this visitor. I had heard that in traditional Catholic churches, they don't try too hard to make strangers feel welcome. And that visit confirmed this. Not very impressing. But over this Christmas, I decided to attend one of their masses as it fitted my schedule well. And I have to say I did not regret my decision.
When I left Hope Lutheran and started riding my former bike for Christ the King, it had become chilly and I had not brought my thicker gloves and scarf with me. A bad miscalculation about the weather. So, when I arrived at the church, I was miserably cold with numb hands and disheveled hair and beard from cold wind. More or less like a miserable homeless chap. Receiving a cold welcome from snobbish people was the last thing I wanted. But maybe I was misinformed. And maybe I had made a quick judgment over that brief visit based on misinformation.
When I arrived in the church, I was already late as a result of the strong cold wind (that slowed my biking). Yet, there were orderly welcome team who passed me from one to another to direct me toward an empty seat somewhere in the middle. Although I usually prefer to sit in the back to have a better view of what's going on, I couldn't refuse this clearly friendly welcoming gesture. And my disheveled appearance didn't make those supposedly snobbish people give me weired looks.
It took me a few minutes to warm up. But it didn't took me long to realize that the inference I had made from their midway-between-modern-and-traditional architecture was right. Their service and liturgy matched their architecture and internal arrangement of the pews. But as I was still somehow dizzy, I couldn't make the most out of this observation. And this made me regret more why I had not attended their masses in the past. Another reminder for me as a sociologist: do not simply trust what you hear about anything or any place or any people; instead, have a first-hand observation for yourself.
Then, I headed for my last stop for this silent (and miserably cold) night, Grace Lutheran. If I had any (unsubstantiated) doubts about the warmness of my reception at Christ the King, I could be certain that I would receive a very warm welcome in my home church. And unlike my first visit to Grace Lutheran over Christmas 2006 that I had traversed a distance of about five miles on foot in an unusually mild winter night, now I was on bike in a windy chilly night. So that certainty gave me warmth from within. And in another round of associative memory, I remembered that first visit that had etched a very deep positive first impression in my mind. I have to make a flashback 2 years ago.
When I arrived near Grace on that night (and I somehow felt like a stranger in town at such a late hour), I could hear very nice bell chimes. And the chimes sounded very welcoming. Like the old fashioned cozy church you see in old movies. And as an old-fashioned guy, this was the ideal church for me to attend on a Christmas Eve (although I later found those chimes to be electronically produced, not by real bells). Actually, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound was what made me discover the church (which was not easily visible from the distance). Yet, there was surprise in store for me.
The greeters who welcomed me at this church (which indeed looked like a cozy nice one) were not the typical greeters you see at a typical church. One wore a lapel pin showing he was a veteran and the other one wore a lapel pin on his leather coat for Department of Homeland Security. For an Iranian Muslim whose country was under the threat of military intervention (although I've never taken it seriously), that was quite a nice first impression, eh?
Well, both of them greeted me in a way that made such negative presumptions evaporate instantly. And both became my friends over the course of my visits to Grace later on. And I used to see the veteran fellow over weekly Bible studies that I attended frequently at Grace.
I sat down in a pew waiting for the service to begin. And I was greeted by their female assistant pastor who was greeting everybody one by one like an old friend. So, this church was not as traditional as its architecture suggested. And I had no idea about when their service would begin and finish and whether I would make it to the 11 pm service at Hope Lutheran (which was my first home church back then). And as I had walked for such a long time in an unfamiliar town, I had no clue about what time it was and how far away I was from Hope Lutheran .
I went back to my Homeland Security friend and asked him about these things. He brought up his watch to my eye and it showed about 10 minutes to 11 and informed me that Hope Lutheran was about 1.5 miles away from there. Then, he asked me if I had a car (which I didn't). And he told me he would take me to Hope Lutheran to make it to their service in time. I realized that such an inquiry (about leaving a church you've just entered for another church) was the weirdest impolite thing a stranger could have done. And I felt so embarrassed.
Leaving his post as a greeter to take a total stranger to another church was quite a gesture. And it really impressed me and made me overcome my apprehension about his lapel pin. It etched a deep mark in my mind that I will never forget. Actually, this was one of my best nights in Toledo and thinking in terms of associative memory, whenever I think of Grace and late night, my brain always brings up this memory. Probably, memories like these over my first days in Toledo, made me feel at home in a foreign country on the other side of the planet. And maybe it's the associative memory of that missed 11 pm Christmas service at Grace in 2006 that made me feel committed to choose to attend their 11 pm service last Christmas and this year.
My experience this year was more or less like last year with two differences. At the end of the service, their choir director invited anybody who felt like singing to come to the altar and join the choir for the ending choral, Hallelujah. Well, it was quite an observation. And by the end of service, although I had a bike to go back home, my Homeland Security friend (who was a greeter this year, just like 2006) insisted on taking me and my bike home in his SUV. Another kind gesture to etch that first impression of 2006 even deeper. And there was more.
Last year, Pastor Jacobs rewarded my surprise visit by a surprise gift, a cake he had baked. He had a better gift for me this year: he and his wife invited me for Christmas dinner. And after Pastor Jacobs picked me up at school the next day to take me to their home, I also had the opportunity to meet Luther. Well, not Martin Luther, rather Luther the dog. I wondered why a Lutheran pastor should name his dog after the reformer pastor who was somehow the founder of Protestantism. His explanation was kinda funny: because this dog was rebellious, just like the other Luther. Well, different kind of rebellion. Anyway.
As I had told them that in Islam, dogs should not touch your clothes or body, they kept Luther away from me. And as a result, he insisted on playing with me by pulling hard on his leash. And as they kept his leash very firmly, the poor dog ended up skidding on the wooden flooring of the kitchen while barking loud. And they told me that Luther usually ignores people who want to play with him and if I had showed any sign of interest, he would've ignored me just like other strangers; his perseverance in reaching me was exactly because he felt I was ignoring him. Sorry Luther, but rules are rules for me.
And after enjoying the elaborate family dinner, Aaron and Tatiana, our musical slaves (as Pastor Jacob's wife referred to them) entertained us with playing piano and violin solos respectively and some duets. Pastor Jacobs had invited me to the wedding of Aaron (his elder son) in August, but as I was stranded in Hotel Carbondale for my orientation marathon, I couldn't make it back to Toledo. So, this was an opportunity to meet Aaron and Tatiana, his Russian wife (both graduate students of music).
The last stop in my Toledo Christmas tour was Congregation Etz Chayim. I had visited Conservative and Reform synagogues for Shabbath and Passover. But I had never visited an Orthodox synagogue. Oddly enough, I chose the occasion of Channukah (which has been commercialized in this country just like Christmas) for this purpose. So, I knew that I would observe a worship style very close to Islam, free of any fanfare and entertainment. And I was right.
Basically, Islam and Judaism are very similar. Well, the orthodox variety of these two religions of course. And attending an orthodox synagogue for a commercialized religious holiday might not sound like a good idea. But for me, it did make sense. I could see how orthodox people in any religion would resist alterations to what they deem proper and pure religion.
The worship looked and sounded like an Islamic worship. Just prayer and worship, without a modicum of distraction or entertainment. And as I had heard, their service was male only. After my experience at a conservative synagogue, where people got mad at me for refusing to put a kippah on my head (which is not mandatory in Judaism BTW), I used the same strategy that I used over my second visit there at avoid hard feelings. I put my scarf over my head. That way I would cover my head (the real reason behind wearing kippah or hat in a Jewish service) without putting a kippah (which is against my beliefs as an orthodox Muslim). By covering your head, you show respect to God during worship. And by putting a scarf on my head, I went beyond the minimum; covering your head completely (as with a scarf or shawl) is what very devout Jews do.
And as I have grown long hair and long beard (as an orthodox Muslim), I look like an orthodox Jew as well. Putting a scarf over shabbath made me completely look like a devout orthodox Jew. Well, maybe not completely. The only problem was my poor knowledge of Hebrew. I couldn't follow the prayers from the prayer book like a real Jew and at times, felt out of sync. Anyway.
Interestingly, due to pure worship style of these orthodox Jews, I felt comfortable being around them as if I were in a mosque saying prayers as a Muslim; especially, given the fact that the prayers sounded very similar to Islamic prayers. By the end of the worship, my feelings were reciprocated by these guys and although they must have realized from my awkwardness that this Jewish looking guy was not a real Jew, almost everybody greeted me with Chofetz, which I tried to return (without knowing what it meant). Fortunately, even after they knew I was from Iran, I was not engaged in political debates (as happened in the Conservative synagogue). Well, a place of worship should be a place for thinking of God and worship only.
I had planned a very crammed schedule to visit as many churches as possible over my stay. The icy streets didn't let me enjoy my Sunday for that matter. But I was lucky and the weather got a little bit warmer, a little bit below freezing on Christmas Eve and I could visit some churches riding my former bike (that now belongs to one of my friends).
I began my Christmas itinerary with Cedar Creek church. As a result of my busy workload last year, I was not able to make it there over Christmas 2007. I was keen to know after all the commercial advertisement they had made (which I had criticized in my Snow, Worship and Technology post), how this special service was different from their ordinary services. I already knew that their Christmas service (like all others) will be laden with Rock music. But when I visited their Toledo campus this year, I found it amusing to see the strong presence of tradition in this contemporary corporate church. And the contrast between traditional and modern elements was interesting.
The stage decorations were more or less traditional (not the typical Rock concert setting of every week). Even the dancing lights and mist were not as overbearing as always. And there was one archetype of traditional Christmas Eve that they had not been able to forgo: candles. By the end of the service, we passed the light to each other. But still, modernity was not giving its ground easily; instead of passing the light from a big candle at the altar (read stage here) and using that to light the other candles, the ushers would use their handheld electric lighters to light the candle of each person at the head of any row (me for example) and that person would pass on the light to the people in their vicinity. After all, when you embrace McDonaldization of religion, efficiency is an important factor and you have to save time; you have to provide service to such a big quantity of customers of spirituality, even if it comes at the expense of the quality of such a deep meaningful tradition.
And in a Christmas service, you expect to hear some Christmas carols. And Carol of the Bells is one of my favorites. But when you're in a modern church, you have to listen to the Rock version of any song, in this case, the one performed by Trans-Siberian, also known as Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24. Watch it here. Ditto for What Child is This (my most favorite carol). Please. Leave this one alone. Does everything has to be modernized? But still, the original versions of these carols have been so deeply etched in my memory that my brain could still reconstruct the original feeling while I was listening to the Rock remakes. Watch here for an instrumental version and here for a choral version. And here and here are Rock samples.
After this modern Christmas service, I moved on to a more moderate service at Hope Lutheran, my first church when I landed in the US and where I made my first Toledoan friends. My experience this year was more or less like my Christmas 2007. As I had reserved 11 pm spot for Grace Lutheran, I had to attend Hope Lutheran for 7 pm service, just like last year. And just like last year, this Festival Worship was very short and modest and as Pastor Tom referred to it, without much special music. And I enjoyed listening to Pastor Tom's sermon on God's Backstage Entrance, giving a modern narration/interpretation of the Nativity. And as always, his preaching style was more like lecturing. No surprise I always enjoy his sermons.
I couldn't see many of my old friends. Yet, it was still good to meet Pastor Tom and Pastor Bill. And it was a surprise for both to see me after such a long time leaving Toledo. And as I had no home in Toledo this year, just like my first days in Toledo in 2006, I could relive all those feelings. Looking around the sanctuary of my first church, I could remember all those feelings of being a new guy in town in a foreign country. And feeling like that in a church that I used to visit frequently was odd. Associative memory can do weird things.
The next shift for my work was Christ the King Roman Catholic Church. While I was in Toledo, I was eager to visit the church. Actually, I had briefly visited the empty church once and it looked somehow like a modern Catholic church. Well, not as modern as Corpus Christi University Parish, maybe somewhere between modern and traditional. But I don't know why I never scheduled a visit during a mass. I had heard that people in this church are kinda snobbish and over that brief visit, those few people around the office didn't bother to greet this visitor. I had heard that in traditional Catholic churches, they don't try too hard to make strangers feel welcome. And that visit confirmed this. Not very impressing. But over this Christmas, I decided to attend one of their masses as it fitted my schedule well. And I have to say I did not regret my decision.
When I left Hope Lutheran and started riding my former bike for Christ the King, it had become chilly and I had not brought my thicker gloves and scarf with me. A bad miscalculation about the weather. So, when I arrived at the church, I was miserably cold with numb hands and disheveled hair and beard from cold wind. More or less like a miserable homeless chap. Receiving a cold welcome from snobbish people was the last thing I wanted. But maybe I was misinformed. And maybe I had made a quick judgment over that brief visit based on misinformation.
When I arrived in the church, I was already late as a result of the strong cold wind (that slowed my biking). Yet, there were orderly welcome team who passed me from one to another to direct me toward an empty seat somewhere in the middle. Although I usually prefer to sit in the back to have a better view of what's going on, I couldn't refuse this clearly friendly welcoming gesture. And my disheveled appearance didn't make those supposedly snobbish people give me weired looks.
It took me a few minutes to warm up. But it didn't took me long to realize that the inference I had made from their midway-between-modern-and-traditional architecture was right. Their service and liturgy matched their architecture and internal arrangement of the pews. But as I was still somehow dizzy, I couldn't make the most out of this observation. And this made me regret more why I had not attended their masses in the past. Another reminder for me as a sociologist: do not simply trust what you hear about anything or any place or any people; instead, have a first-hand observation for yourself.
Then, I headed for my last stop for this silent (and miserably cold) night, Grace Lutheran. If I had any (unsubstantiated) doubts about the warmness of my reception at Christ the King, I could be certain that I would receive a very warm welcome in my home church. And unlike my first visit to Grace Lutheran over Christmas 2006 that I had traversed a distance of about five miles on foot in an unusually mild winter night, now I was on bike in a windy chilly night. So that certainty gave me warmth from within. And in another round of associative memory, I remembered that first visit that had etched a very deep positive first impression in my mind. I have to make a flashback 2 years ago.
When I arrived near Grace on that night (and I somehow felt like a stranger in town at such a late hour), I could hear very nice bell chimes. And the chimes sounded very welcoming. Like the old fashioned cozy church you see in old movies. And as an old-fashioned guy, this was the ideal church for me to attend on a Christmas Eve (although I later found those chimes to be electronically produced, not by real bells). Actually, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound was what made me discover the church (which was not easily visible from the distance). Yet, there was surprise in store for me.
The greeters who welcomed me at this church (which indeed looked like a cozy nice one) were not the typical greeters you see at a typical church. One wore a lapel pin showing he was a veteran and the other one wore a lapel pin on his leather coat for Department of Homeland Security. For an Iranian Muslim whose country was under the threat of military intervention (although I've never taken it seriously), that was quite a nice first impression, eh?
Well, both of them greeted me in a way that made such negative presumptions evaporate instantly. And both became my friends over the course of my visits to Grace later on. And I used to see the veteran fellow over weekly Bible studies that I attended frequently at Grace.
I sat down in a pew waiting for the service to begin. And I was greeted by their female assistant pastor who was greeting everybody one by one like an old friend. So, this church was not as traditional as its architecture suggested. And I had no idea about when their service would begin and finish and whether I would make it to the 11 pm service at Hope Lutheran (which was my first home church back then). And as I had walked for such a long time in an unfamiliar town, I had no clue about what time it was and how far away I was from Hope Lutheran .
I went back to my Homeland Security friend and asked him about these things. He brought up his watch to my eye and it showed about 10 minutes to 11 and informed me that Hope Lutheran was about 1.5 miles away from there. Then, he asked me if I had a car (which I didn't). And he told me he would take me to Hope Lutheran to make it to their service in time. I realized that such an inquiry (about leaving a church you've just entered for another church) was the weirdest impolite thing a stranger could have done. And I felt so embarrassed.
Leaving his post as a greeter to take a total stranger to another church was quite a gesture. And it really impressed me and made me overcome my apprehension about his lapel pin. It etched a deep mark in my mind that I will never forget. Actually, this was one of my best nights in Toledo and thinking in terms of associative memory, whenever I think of Grace and late night, my brain always brings up this memory. Probably, memories like these over my first days in Toledo, made me feel at home in a foreign country on the other side of the planet. And maybe it's the associative memory of that missed 11 pm Christmas service at Grace in 2006 that made me feel committed to choose to attend their 11 pm service last Christmas and this year.
My experience this year was more or less like last year with two differences. At the end of the service, their choir director invited anybody who felt like singing to come to the altar and join the choir for the ending choral, Hallelujah. Well, it was quite an observation. And by the end of service, although I had a bike to go back home, my Homeland Security friend (who was a greeter this year, just like 2006) insisted on taking me and my bike home in his SUV. Another kind gesture to etch that first impression of 2006 even deeper. And there was more.
Last year, Pastor Jacobs rewarded my surprise visit by a surprise gift, a cake he had baked. He had a better gift for me this year: he and his wife invited me for Christmas dinner. And after Pastor Jacobs picked me up at school the next day to take me to their home, I also had the opportunity to meet Luther. Well, not Martin Luther, rather Luther the dog. I wondered why a Lutheran pastor should name his dog after the reformer pastor who was somehow the founder of Protestantism. His explanation was kinda funny: because this dog was rebellious, just like the other Luther. Well, different kind of rebellion. Anyway.
As I had told them that in Islam, dogs should not touch your clothes or body, they kept Luther away from me. And as a result, he insisted on playing with me by pulling hard on his leash. And as they kept his leash very firmly, the poor dog ended up skidding on the wooden flooring of the kitchen while barking loud. And they told me that Luther usually ignores people who want to play with him and if I had showed any sign of interest, he would've ignored me just like other strangers; his perseverance in reaching me was exactly because he felt I was ignoring him. Sorry Luther, but rules are rules for me.
And after enjoying the elaborate family dinner, Aaron and Tatiana, our musical slaves (as Pastor Jacob's wife referred to them) entertained us with playing piano and violin solos respectively and some duets. Pastor Jacobs had invited me to the wedding of Aaron (his elder son) in August, but as I was stranded in Hotel Carbondale for my orientation marathon, I couldn't make it back to Toledo. So, this was an opportunity to meet Aaron and Tatiana, his Russian wife (both graduate students of music).
The last stop in my Toledo Christmas tour was Congregation Etz Chayim. I had visited Conservative and Reform synagogues for Shabbath and Passover. But I had never visited an Orthodox synagogue. Oddly enough, I chose the occasion of Channukah (which has been commercialized in this country just like Christmas) for this purpose. So, I knew that I would observe a worship style very close to Islam, free of any fanfare and entertainment. And I was right.
Basically, Islam and Judaism are very similar. Well, the orthodox variety of these two religions of course. And attending an orthodox synagogue for a commercialized religious holiday might not sound like a good idea. But for me, it did make sense. I could see how orthodox people in any religion would resist alterations to what they deem proper and pure religion.
The worship looked and sounded like an Islamic worship. Just prayer and worship, without a modicum of distraction or entertainment. And as I had heard, their service was male only. After my experience at a conservative synagogue, where people got mad at me for refusing to put a kippah on my head (which is not mandatory in Judaism BTW), I used the same strategy that I used over my second visit there at avoid hard feelings. I put my scarf over my head. That way I would cover my head (the real reason behind wearing kippah or hat in a Jewish service) without putting a kippah (which is against my beliefs as an orthodox Muslim). By covering your head, you show respect to God during worship. And by putting a scarf on my head, I went beyond the minimum; covering your head completely (as with a scarf or shawl) is what very devout Jews do.
And as I have grown long hair and long beard (as an orthodox Muslim), I look like an orthodox Jew as well. Putting a scarf over shabbath made me completely look like a devout orthodox Jew. Well, maybe not completely. The only problem was my poor knowledge of Hebrew. I couldn't follow the prayers from the prayer book like a real Jew and at times, felt out of sync. Anyway.
Interestingly, due to pure worship style of these orthodox Jews, I felt comfortable being around them as if I were in a mosque saying prayers as a Muslim; especially, given the fact that the prayers sounded very similar to Islamic prayers. By the end of the worship, my feelings were reciprocated by these guys and although they must have realized from my awkwardness that this Jewish looking guy was not a real Jew, almost everybody greeted me with Chofetz, which I tried to return (without knowing what it meant). Fortunately, even after they knew I was from Iran, I was not engaged in political debates (as happened in the Conservative synagogue). Well, a place of worship should be a place for thinking of God and worship only.
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