With a loud bang, the service started. Large drums called people from around Le Lai Street in Ho Chi Minh City to worship.
South Vietnam hosts many Catholic churches, a remnant of French colonialism. I was the only foreigner in the church. The church looked more like the grand cathedrals of Europe rather than a church in the heart of one of Vietnam's largest cities.
Although Vietnam is run by a communist party, the Catholic population in South Vietnam still exists. I had wandered to this church on Easter eve with the hope of finding information about Easter services on Sunday.
I walked into the church and sat down, taking in the stained glass windows, the European looking saints and the white Jesus figure on the cross over the altar. I tried to ignore the strangeness of Vietnamese people bowing and praying before a white Jesus.
The drums sounded and people filed in. A young boy dressed in white robes handed me a candle. I was stuck. The lights went out, candles were lit. The entire church was filled with the songs of Vietnamese people mourning the death of Jesus.
The service was completely in Vietnamese. Yet, two of the songs held a familiar word: Hallelujah. I smiled and sang along when I could. The Vietnamese people around me smiled and began to relax. Some of the instruments seemed foreign to me, but mainly the service used an organ. The melodious sound of the Vietnamese tonal language coupled with the music filled the large dome.
The next day I went to two services. One in the west side of Ho Chi Minh and one in the Notre Dame Cathedral. The first service was also in Vietnamese. This time my friend Adelaide accompanied me. I decided to sit down and follow the service of standing, kneeling, praying, singing. I tried to mimic the Vietnamese liturgy, but it was very difficult.
Then we took a taxi across town to the Notre Dame Cathedral made as a replica of the famous French church. While the rose glass window was missing, the church was impressive. The service was surprisingly in English. This time many foreigners were there, more than the locals.
I followed the scripture readings, the sermon and felt the familiarity of the liturgy of the Vietnamese services. I was hearing the same readings in two different languages.
Suddenly, the choir chimed in with an organ singing Handel's Messiah. The chorus filled the entire church, echoing off the blond, brown and black haired people sitting all around me.
Check back for photos after I return to Hong Kong on Tuesday.
4 comments:
Jecca Glad to see you had a three service Easter. We miss you.
Love Pops
Wow, that's a lot of Catholicism! :-) This was the part of your Vietnam trip I was most looking forward to hearing about, and you didn't disappoint. Sounds like a memorable Easter...I'll look forward to seeing the pictures as well!
I wonder if underlying the "European facade" there is a mixture between catolic and indigenous beliefs?
Jess, you are missed. Sorely. Deeply. Truly.
aleida
Thank you for the question Aleida.
Beneath the "European facade" I did see some mix of indigenous beliefs. The drums at the beginning of the service were unlike anything I had heard before. There seemed to be a lot more kneeling as well.
Outside of the churches were special areas for different saints. People gathered around those areas similiar to how I have seen worshippers in Buddhist and Hindu temples.
I'm sure my observations would have been deeper if I had understood the language. The English service I attended was for tourists, so not many conclusions can be drawn from that service.
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