A Church Alive: Mass at Blessed Sacrament Cathedral in Montego Bay

After an easy first day of settling into our new home at Blessed Assurance, yesterday reminded us that we are indeed on a mission, not a vacation. We awoke at sunrise to roosters crowing and a faint light poking through our dorm ceiling. Cold showers seized our weary attentions from the humdrum of morning routine, but serenity returned with group morning prayer on the breezy balcony. After breakfast, our bus pulled up to the compound and we piled in.

After a harrowing drive through rural Jamaica (think cars whipping by at full-speed on a ten-foot wide mountain road), the trees yielded to a horizon of sprawling buildings. We drove through the city center of Montego Bay, a strip lined with colorful storefronts, faded booths and tattered flyers. It looked like a place at once full of life and short on funding. At last, we arrived at the gate to Blessed Sacrament Cathedral. The church area was clearly a sort of refuge from the hustle-bustle of the city, perched on top of a tall hill overlooking Montego Bay like a beacon. Indeed, the people here seemed at peace, happy to spend their Sunday in the Lord’s house, worshipping and finding their rest.

And what a worship it was! The Mass was celebrated by the Bishop of Montego Bay, who led the congregation in a vibrant liturgy. It was extraordinarily reverent, with fervent prayer, wind-swept incense and solemn Lenten decoration. Most noticeably however, it was extraordinarily “of-the-people:” the singing was loud and a bit off-key, two drummers and handclaps punctuated the worship, and hands were consistently outstretched in praise. It was remarkably un-pretentious and natural, but no less reverent.

After two hours, the Mass concluded and the rector of the Cathedral stood for an announcement. “You may have noticed our…colorful guests. They are seminarians from Washington!” A gasp was felt from amidst the crowd. Jamaica currently has no men studying for priestly formation, so to see nineteen young seminarians in one spot shocked the locals. They burst into applause, exuberant in their joy for the life of the Church.

After Mass, we snapped a picture with the Bishop, packed back into the van and spent the rest of the day at Blessed Assurance. One moment of the day stuck out to me with particular poignancy: after lunch, we were invited to feed some of the children their meal. I was asked to feed Austin, a little boy rumored to be a “food grabber.” My job was simple: to hold Austin’s spoon while he ate each successive bite with vigor. As I repeated the mundane task, it dawned on me that holding that little spoon was the difference between life and death for the tiny boy. In that moment, I meant the world to Austin, even if he didn’t know it. I felt completely present, radically enough for him. I thought of Jesus’ own words: “When I was hungry, you gave me to eat.” I saw that in feeding Austin, I was feeding Jesus, the helpless God-Man who came into our world as a babe, totally vulnerable. After he wolfed down the final bite, I said goodbye and gave him a smile. I knew that today, my brothers and I had received an irreplaceable gift: the chance to sustain the life of the Church through these beautiful children.

Make sure to follow the rest of our trip on social media using the hashtag #SemsOnMission