Personal Narrative: My Experience At All Saints Catholic Church

This morning I attended a weekday mass at All Saints Catholic Church. The church itself is relatively large from what I saw. The exterior had many well-tended trees and bushes, with a sign pointing to the office, and a cross about six feet tall out front by a cement walkway which led to the entrance. The building itself was a taupe color with dark brown roofing and glass doors leading at the entrance. As I walked through the glass doors I was not greeted by anyone, so I followed what everyone else was doing. I noticed a holy water font in front of the doors leading directly to the room of worship. I watched as the casually-dressed Parishioners, all aged at least sixty-five years, and mostly white, middle-class women dipped their fingers into the font and then made the sign of the cross, before entering the worship area.
The daily service was not held in the chapel proper, but in
Immediately highlighting the problem of sin separating us from God within the general Christian worldview. After this, a church member took place at the podium and read a passage from the bible. The chapter and verses were never clarified, and the story was hard to follow, but I believe it was the story of a mother trying to convince her son to give his life to the king. During the reading, the congregation had books from which they read out responses. When the reading was over, the gentleman sat down, and the reverend made his way across the room to the podium. He spoke of the story from the reading as one of the darkest times in ancient Jewish history, and likened it to what is happening with ISIS today. As he finished his sermon, we stood, and the reverend walked back to the altar area and sat down, and we were