Kyrkan

Interestingly, that word starts with a "sh" sound. I've been saying it wrong, and I bet your first attempt in your head was wrong as well. Nathaniel corrected me recently - he's not hesitant about correcting pronunciation, I'm sure you're all shocked to hear.

The church!

We've only been here four weeks, so obviously I can't make any sweeping statements about the church here. I've posted photos on instagram a couple times, though, wanting to say more than I could fit in a caption, and gotten several questions from friends, so thought I'd write a little more.

The official Church of Sweden is nominally Lutheran, but more of a political body than religious at this point. I did a little interesting research for this post, to double check things we've heard anecdotally, and learned a few new tidbits. The Church of Sweden is the largest Lutheran denomination in Europe, and the third large protestant denomination after the Church of England and the Evangelical Church of Germany, with over 6 million members (over 60% of the Swedish population). Given the general lack of religion in Sweden, how is that possible? Because up until a few years ago, every newborn baby in Sweden automatically became a registered member of the church unless parents had actively opted out. That's one way to boost your numbers! The Church of Sweden is very liberal, and very politically involved. Per Fr. Mark at the church we attended last weekend, they'd just had the equivalent of parish council elections for the Church of Sweden the prior week, and it's all done with campaigning based on political party affiliation. Of the 6+ million members, roughly 2% actually attend church.

The Catholic Church came to Sweden in the 800s and endured a few monarchs past reformation till it was outlawed in 1599. Being Catholic was punishable by law, resulting in deportations and death penalties, until 1781 when the "Tolerance Act" decriminalized limited visits of foreign Catholics to the country. Actually living in Sweden as a Catholic was still a crime until 1860. Swedish citizens were not legally allowed to exit the Church of Sweden for Catholicism until the 1950s. This is likely similar to many other European countries' church histories, but is intriguing to me, having grown up in a land of religious freedom and never considered that in such recent history, in a European nation, this would have been an issue.

The Diocese of Stockholm is the one diocese in the country. The bishop, Anders Arborelius - the first ethnically Swedish bishop anywhere in Europe since the reformation - was named a cardinal by Pope Francis earlier this year! There are roughly 200,000 Catholics in the country, from a diverse background. (If you did your math up above, you'll note that that means there are more active Catholics than active members of the 6 million person Church of Sweden). Recent growth in the church is due primarily to an influx of Christian refugees from Syria, etc. Masses can be found throughout the city of Stockholm offered in a host of languages to accommodate the wide backgrounds of the faithful.

That's the end of my wikipedia based church history synopsis. Now on to our personal experience...

There are two churches offering English masses reasonably near us. Both are about half an hour on foot, or 20-25 minutes by bus-foot combo. We attended Marie Bebådelse (Annunciation of Mary) the first few weeks, because it was nearer to where we were sight-seeing, and I prefer the idea of a 5pm mass on Saturday night to 6pm on Sunday (our two options). As instagram photos showed, MB is literally in the basement of an apartment building. You could easily walk past it without realizing there was a church at all. Because Sweden seized all the beautiful old churches from the Catholics when they instituted their national church, the Catholic churches seem to have built back up in city buildings that blend into their surroundings. I haven't seen any suburban churches yet, so can't say whether they look more like I'd expect a church to look. MB had only a handful of people in attendance at the English mass. There has been a different priest each time we've attended, but I don't know whether there's always a rotation, or if we happen to have a hit an odd time at the end of summer. The first and third time we attended, there was an organist and cantor performing relatively traditional music, with the priest and an acolyte on the altar (a lay person in the white alb like our acolytes wear, but I don't know whether they have actual installed acolytes here or if it's just substituting an adult for youth altar servers). The second week was apparently the first attempt at establishing a "children's mass". We were met at the door by the priest, a Passionist (a new order to me), asking if any of the kids would be willing to read the prayers of the faithful (Ruth stepped up). They rehearsed some quirky music before mass that I assume was written with children in mind, but was hard to follow (even Father was looking askance at that evening's organist and way-too-quiet cantor), and at the end of mass Father took some time to address the small congregation and ask whether there were any other sorts of musicians who might like to play - guitars, trumpets, etc - as well as to request anyone interested in serving at the altar or reading to just show up 15 minutes early the next time to practice. It was all a little disorganized, but that's not surprising since it was their first time trying it. But it wasn't the sort of thing we (including the kids) found enticing. Since the new children's mass is to be on 1st and 3rd weekends, we took the opportunity this past weekend (the 3rd of the month) to try out the other English mass option. Overall, I think MB is a very sweet parish, doing an important service to the community. It's a mission parish. It leaves me feeling guilty not wanting to attend there, because it seems like such a ragtag crew, trying to do good work.

St. Eugenia, it turns out, is a much larger, churchier church. Inside at least. From the outside you could still nearly pass it by, although there is a large cross sticking out from the front like a restaurant would have it's sign, jutting out to catch the eye. Inside, however, it looks like... well... a church built in the 70s. So, you know. Is it to my taste in church architecture? No. But it felt so much grander and more reverent and lovely in comparison to MB that it was a bit of warm hug just to be there. The mass was standing room only by the time it began; the congregation was beautifully diverse. There was a choir of mixed ages, that sang traditional songs we were familiar with, though the mass parts were new. St. Eugenia is run by Jesuits since the 1950s, and must serve a university population because some of the announcements at the end were directed to students regarding a lecture series after mass. There were three priests on the altar, an assortment of altar servers assisting, and incense floating heavenward. Interestingly, there were a dozen people taking up the collection and carrying up the gifts which made me think it might be heavy on the EMEs, but only the priests distributed the Eucharist (love that!). If you weren't receiving the Eucharist, the priests gave serious blessings! I saw one of the priests blessing a man who'd come forward in the line and was starting to think it was a full spiritual advice session happening, given the amount of time they spent together. When I walked up with Rachel asleep on my shoulder - that's what a 6pm mass will get you, apparently - he gave her a lovely long blessing. It must just be how they roll.

As noted on the instagram post, it happened to be the feast of St. Eugenia, so the homily was about how the church came to be, how it chose it patron, etc. Interesting stuff, which can mostly be found on the church's webpage if you'd like to read more (there's a "translate" button on the bottom right). We had a chance to chat with Fr. Mark after mass. He was warm and welcoming. As we were exiting, we were also greeted by Amelia, a woman from Nigeria, who was boisterous and joyful and had the most amazing head wrap. Also, I'm full of respect for her because I had seen her stop a boy she didn't appear to know personally, maybe 12 years old, after he'd been hugely disrespectful in his treatment of the Eucharist at communion, and give him a talking to. Go, Amelia! She complimented us on the behavior of our own children - always something that warms a mother's heart - and hugged everybody a couple of times each with such exuberance that her headscarf was coming unwrapped by the end of it. I hope we see her again soon!

We do intend to attend mass at St. Eric's Cathedral soon, most likely in Swedish since they don't offer English and we don't speak any of the other languages they do offer. It does actually look like a church, albeit a church sandwiched between buildings in a shopping district. I'd like to try to find a time when Cardinal Anders will be celebrating mass, so we can... see him in action? That's a weird way of putting it, but you know what I mean. Not that we'll understand the homily, but at least we'd be not understanding a cardinal's homily instead of someone of lesser title.

A couple additional notes:

~ Many people here receive on the tongue, which I appreciate. My children have grown up doing so, and it makes them a little anxious when we attend a parish where it appears uncommon ("Will they let me receive on the tongue?" "Of course. They're required to allow that, and should even encourage it." "Okay... will you go first...?"). I'm glad they can see they're not alone in that extra sign of reverence here.

~ Many people, after receiving communion, go to the side chapels or transepts to light candles and kneel in prayer before returning to their seats or leaving. I think it's an interesting gesture. I can see it making sense, if you're offering your mass for an intention, to receive Christ then immediately go and light a candle for the same intention. However I find all the movement around the church distracting to my own meditation. Then again, meditation during communion (or any time, for that matter) has never been my strong suit, so I should probably try closing my eyes and focusing more on my own prayer rather than watching where the other communicants are going.