Our favorite tree is the birch

We went to church today.

That’s right, you read that correctly. We went to church. Anyone who knows us knows that this is not what we do on Sundays. We usually go to Target on Sundays. When I called our dear friend Manuel to tell him we were going he said, “I think we have a bad connection because it sounded like you said you were going to church.” Philip then shouted, “No, our favorite tree is the birch.” Sigh. Today we went to church. No we didn’t suffer a head trauma. We went because Yuki is now almost 5 months old and we need to baptize her before she is in college. Yes, baptize.

We're gonna do what now?

Once upon a time, when I told my parents that I met a man that I thought I would marry, they did not care that he was an American. They did, however, LOVE (and were relieved by the fact) that he was raised Catholic. They felt an instant bond with Philip’s parents because the two families shared a religion. When we were planning our wedding, the first hurdle was whether to get married in the church given that neither Philip nor I practice. After much back and forth, we decided to do it in church as a gift to our parents. And it is true that this was one ritual and upbringing we had in common. We agreed that wedding ceremony has much to do with the marriage of two families, beyond just our preferences. We ended up having a great Jesuit priest (if you’re going to get married Catholic, you can’t go wrong with Jesuits) with a modern dance background (it’s true) who made the mass less stiff and enjoyable to Catholics and non-Catholics alike. My dear mother was pleased. And when my Ma is pleased, we are all pleased. (Just a quick background on Mom; she almost ditched my dad when they were dating to become a nun. Enough said.)

if we don't baptize her, they may just come back and do it without us

So naturally, the next step was the baptism of our child. Much in the same way that we decided to get married, we felt this would be important to our families. It's one common ritual the two families know around a new baby. And again, my Ma would be pleased (also Philip’s mother who, though we don’t think she ever considered the convent, is no less devout). We thought that it would be nice to have it done when both sets of parents were in town. But this became complicated by the fact that we weren’t organized enough to decide where to do it. We are currently registered at St. James Cathedral on First Hill. I’m kind of amazed that we are registered at all, but this came about because Philip’s sister Annette asked us to be the godparents of her son (Hi Paul!) and in order to do that, we needed a document that stated we belong to a church.

and if the Katanos don't do it, these two will

We chose St. James then because it's the biggest Catholic Church around and we have taken my parents there several times including their epic midnight mass on Christmas Eve. St. James is an impressive Cathedral. It has amazing architecture, not one but two pipe organs, a choir of at least 50, and a processional that consists of about 25 people. The afore mentioned Christmas mass is staged by a theatre director, I was told, where they have a full orchestra with timpani and every move of the priests (yes, multiple), the canter, and the readers are elegantly choreographed and framed by tall candelabras held by angelic altar boys and girls. Their musical selection goes from Gregorian to modern and it is quite elaborate.

We once ran into their baptism mass and watched about 25 babies get baptized in, again, the most elaborate manner. They had three costume changes, easily. First in their regular church clothes, then in white bath towel, then after they are dunked (yes, they actually dunk the babies as opposed to some other churches that trickle water out of what looks like a glass creamer on the baby’s head) they wear their white gowns. This took, like, two hours. I was really crabby at the time because this was in the midst of our fertility madness and the last thing I needed to see was 25 beautiful babies and their happy, happy parents (jerks!). So my memory of this is not exactly positive.

Then the question became, is that the sort of church and ceremony we want for our kid? If we ever manage to take her to mass do we want this to be her impression of it? Do we want her to think that all churches are this fancy and echo-y. Decision-making has so much weight when you have a kid, I tell you. Then I remembered a church that a couple of our friends, who are also Catholics-like-us recommended. Something about it being very casual (as evidenced by the guy in front of us who was balancing his checkbook for the first 10 minutes of mass -- yes he wrote a check for the collection) and with a Gospel choir. Two things we can get behind. So in order to check it out, we went to mass at St. Therese. Are you following this “Shaggy Dog” story?

apropos of nothing, where's my shirt?

St. Therese is located in Madrona, a kind of a hip neighborhood and home to one of our favorite restaurants, St. Clouds. It was a good sign that the church is around the corner from St. Clouds, for brunch purposes (what is it about Catholics that they follow mass with a big plate of fatty foods?). As we entered the church, the Gospel choir was warming up the congregation. The singers were led by a piano and drums and despite their mostly white, middle-aged, nerdy membership, their sound was very soulful. The church had a simple and sort of rustic architecture with stained glass windows that were quite simple. Very Piet Mondrian for you art students out there.

set phasers on "Art History 101"

It probably sat about 100 people as opposed to 1000. So far, this was a good sign. As a girl who used to play guitar at “folk mass” (for you non-Catholics, picture A Mighty Wind with church music---yes, I was a DORK. For those who are Catholic, I have two words, Glory and Praise), I appreciate good music in masses. In fact, and to be honest, I got involved in playing and singing at masses so that the mass would feel shorter. Anyway, the music was down to earth and fun. And most importantly, the congregation can clap on 2 and 4 without prompting. VERY IMPORTANT. Based solely on that, Philip said he would come back. I looked around and also noticed that this church had actual diversity as opposed to just having 17 variations of Asian (which I like to call, “segrigasity”). The Gospel of the day was the story of the prodigal son which immediately reminded me of the production of Godspell I directed about three years ago, in which the prodigal son spoke like Keanu Reeves.


You have to understand that when you are raised Catholic, you do nothing but daydream during mass as a kid so you end up having a very active imagination. Then I noticed that the priest didn’t sing. Often in churches where there is an abundance of music, the priest is forced to sing certain lines of the mass and when you know the priests, you feel relieved when the certain ones were assigned to that mass, and cringe for others. This church left all the singing to the choir. Another point. Then when the “peace be with you” section came, it was a party. People left their seats to hug someone across the church, mingled, chatted – it was like a cocktail-less cocktail party – until the piano player stylishly began underscoring with the gospel rendition of Lamb of God. Then people returned to their seats and sang in three-part harmony.

On the way to the church, we were jokingly arguing who gets to leave if Yuki became restless, but she remained quiet and fell asleep by communion and neither of us were itching to leave during the mass. This shall be the church where she gets baptized. No question. We just have to register and get her on the list and take the class (or classes -- Catholics love them some classes). We left there ahead of the crowd (as Philip says, “Mass has ended, start your engines”) and went to St. Clouds for brunch.

Somewhere in the world, pigs are flying.

you've been great! thank you!
good night!