The Do-It-Yourself-Mass

It is Sunday morning in a small “church”, in Maraval, near Port of Spain in Trinidad. It is 8.00 am and the church which consists in an old derelict garage with many holes in the roof to let in the rays of the early sun is already almost full to its crumbling walls. Led by a choir and a single guitarist, the congregation are singing and praying as they have for the past half hour. Down at the makeshift sacristy which doubles as a confessional, the liturgical leader is filling me on who will be doing what during the celebration. I am still in a state of mild bewilderment having been driven at speed up the narrow mountain passes by an enthusiastic sister whose concept of a jeep does not seem to include the presence of a break. As I approach the altar the choir and congregation are just moving into 3rd gear. How great thou art – a difficult one to do at any time of the day – resounds among the tiny houses and sparse hills of the surrounding heights. I am overwhelmed by a sense of occasion – that this act about to begin is very important to the people gathered. Looking down at this congregation, despite the early hour, I see ladies smiling and their shrill and happy voices fill the church. The men, more subdued, dot the landscape of the further reaches, quiet but attentive and ready to join in a sacrament they hold most dearly. I will let the liturgy speak for itself this morning too. Only on this occasion I will have the much valued opportunity to let it speak to me too, as I hear the Word of God read and see the ministries of care and service being enacted before me and to me. Whatever we may be at other times, this morning we are the Christian, Priestly people of Maraval and we are all in this – together.   Its a do-it-yourself-Mass because everyone is playing their part and understand the celebration as theirs.  It won't happen unless they do. 


As you will read below, I describe two very different experiences of a Sunday celebration. There are cultural difference and practices but one aspect comes home to me quite deeply. While in Tallaght, as priest, the task of animating the gathering is mine, in Trinidad, I slot in to the preparation and prior planned roles, organised by the representatives of the community and experience a sense of Church which I believe is, if not lost, then very much diluted in the Ireland of today.