Last Saturday, on the way to the Bison Range, we stopped at the St. Ignatious Mission. Upon stepping into the huge church, we were amazed. The magnificent murals of holy characters loomed far above our heads, and we were stunned. Knowing that our mother had a Catholic upbringing, we were intrigued by the religious customs, such as holy water, confession, and genuflection. We eagerly learned about the crying room, where mothers with crying children sit in a separate room with a large window, listening to the sermon. The name originally led us to believe it was a room for mourners! Confession seemed pretty bad, as you need to tell the priest every little thing that might be a sin. What if you thought a cuss word, or sassed your mother in your mind? It just seemed like the priest was being a snoop. As the church is on a reservation, there was a painting showing Christ as an Indian chief. As an Indian, Jesus looked a whole lot different. The only resemblances to the traditional, were the Sacred Heart and hand position.
The church really helped us to understand more about the Catholic religion. Sure, Mom had told us about it, but before we went to the church we hadn’t been able to visualize what it was really like to be a Catholic.
