Church

Although Macau is fast becoming a city of steel and glass and gigantic modern buildings, there are dozens of Catholic churches and Buddhist temples scattered everywhere. Some of the churches date from the late 1500s, and the one we’ve discovered, on a hilltop about a 20-minute walk from our apartment, was built in 1865. Sunday Mass in Chinese is at 9 a.m., in English at 10 a.m. and in Portuguese at 11 a.m. We go to the 10, and our fellow churchgoers are primarily from the sizeable Filipino community. The Australian priest is humble, brilliant and a dedicated servant of God and his “flock” of parishioners. The choir of Filipino women evokes a childlike innocence. The place is filled with joy. I have been asked to be a reader each time we’ve gone there, and that role helps me be even more engaged in the service and sense of community. I don’t know that I’ve ever wanted so much to go to church on Sunday!