After almost a month of living in London (whoa!), I've discovered that one of the biggest differences between being at Notre Dame and being abroad is the spiritual life. At ND, it is so easy to pray or go to Mass. There are literally hundreds of Masses each week and we have the beautiful grotto by the lakes to go visit whenever we want. Here in London, instead of walking downstairs in my slippers to McG mass, I have to work a little harder to find a church. But luckily there are several Catholic Churches nearby and I have managed to make it to Mass every Sunday so far. It has been a nice piece of continuity and familiarity as I adjust to living across the pond. But there have also been some adventures...yes, even at Church.

A few weeks ago, we went to Mass right up the street at an Italian Church, and didn't read the fine print on the Mass schedule, and ended up at a 7 pm Mass said completely in Italian. Oops. All I understood was "Amen," "Alleluia," and the Sign of the Cross. Add that to my list of "Global London" experiences. They weren't kidding when they said London was an international city.

So naturally, we decided to find a church where they said Mass in English and Kelly, Megan, Kaitlin, and I ended up at St. Peter and St. Paul's Church, a short walk away from the flats. Once again, we struggled with the Mass schedule (what is our ND education teaching us?) and arrived early for Mass at noon, only to discover that the Mass was actually at 12:15. So we sat in the pews looking around the small, but very pretty, church. And as we waited, the choir director came over to our pew and asked us if we would like to join her and sing with the choir. We were a bit taken aback and tried to politely decline. I even cited my terrible singing voice as an excuse, but she was pretty insistent, telling us that it doesn't matter what our voices sound like, just that we are praising God (certain people who have had the misfortune of hearing my singing voice might suggest otherwise...). The choir director seemed like a sweet lady and we wanted to help her out, so we decided, why not? Let's go up and join the choir for the day. We thought it would be a good way to get more involved in the community and it just seemed like it could be one of those memorable stories that people tell about their abroad experiences. I figured I'd be telling my sister, who is a wonderful singer, about what a choir is like over here in England. So we followed the sweet choir director to the back of the church and up the steps to the choir loft.

There was no one else there.

WE were the choir. Kelly, Megan, Kaitlin, and I were the choir at a local London church for the past two weekends at 12:15 Mass.

I would just like to point out that my three talented friends are all former singers, musicians, and musical performers. I was in the choir in middle school, by some miracle, but the only singing I've done since then is along with the radio and at Mass, where my dismal voice gets drowned out by other, more talented singers.
I would also like to point out that they sing different hymns here in England. And they don't have the music in the hymnals, its just the words. So there we were, four American girls crowded around an organ in a church in London, trying to read the sheet music over the choir director's shoulder and the lyrics in our hymnals at the same time. Luckily, another singer joined us right as Mass started, but that still didn't solve the problem of not knowing the music...
I know we didn't hit all the right notes, but we definitely tried hard. And the choir director (whose name we have yet to find out) told us that we did a "smashing" job and to come back any time. So we weren't too surprised when she waved at us from the choir loft this past weekend and invited us up. There was one other singer this time, which was good, because this very sweet choir director has a tendency to stop singing during the verses in an attempt to get us to sing louder...which usually doesn't work.
It's only a small church tucked away on a little side road in the bustling city of London, but it was so nice to be welcomed with open arms and invited to return, which I hope I can do often. It definitely doesn't compare to McGlinn Mass (how could it, with me singing?). But I loved that we reached out in the community and stepped out of the Notre Dame bubble here in London.