I was in Saint Andrews two Fridays ago and I tried to visit some churches. The Catholic Church there was, I’m sorry to say, typical of many Catholic churches these days. Which is to say that there was a sign on the front that said “Visitors Welcome” and every door was locked up tight. (Coincidentally, my Serpentine Friend sent me this link on the same subject.)
So down the road I go to the Anglican church which did not have a sign saying it welcomes visitors. It had something far better—it had the door open and a woman from the parish had volunteered to sit at the door and welcome you and make sure you didn’t nick the silver plate while you were there. Is there not a single Catholic in Saint Andrews willing to do the same?
Inside there was a young woman from the choir practicing solo bits for an upcoming service. It was in German so I’d guess Bach. She was standing off to the left of the altar where there was an upright piano. She’d sing her bits and, when she needed help remembering where her part went, she’d twiddle a few notes out on the piano. She was wearing a pale blue eyelet sundress and sandals only she’d kicked the sandals off for the sensual pleasure of feeling the church floor against her feet. She was beautiful and she sang beautifully.
She reminded me of someone I know.
I wouldn’t say she was showing off so much as she was enjoying the power that came from being a beautiful woman with a beautiful voice that she could just fill that church with. I sat for a while and bathed in the glory of the sheer power of her beauty.