My Road to Baptism (Part 3): Freezing During the Sign of Peace

My first Mass was confusing.

I did not really know what was happening.

I spent most of the time standing when everyone stood, sitting when everyone sat, and trying not to lose my place in the booklet.

And yet, despite understanding very little, I left with a feeling that was difficult to explain.

The God who had always felt distant somehow seemed a little closer.

Then, in the middle of the Mass, something unexpected happened.

The Sign of Peace

If you attend Mass for the first time, there is one moment that may catch you completely by surprise.

The Sign of Peace.

Suddenly, people begin turning towards one another and exchanging greetings.

In Japan, this is usually done with a smile and a small bow.

In other countries, it may be a handshake, an embrace, or another gesture of peace.

At the time, however, I knew none of this.

All I knew was that something unexpected was happening around me.

“Wait… what is everyone doing?”

For a brief moment, I completely froze.

Fortunately, the sister sitting beside me quietly showed me what to do.

Had I come alone, I suspect I would have remained frozen until the moment passed.

Even after I started attending Mass regularly, the Sign of Peace made me nervous for quite some time.

Another surprise

Just as I was beginning to recover from that experience, another unfamiliar moment arrived.

Holy Communion.

At the time, I knew almost nothing about it.

I only understood that Catholics who had been baptised could receive Communion.

Those who had not yet been baptised could either remain in their seats or come forward for a blessing.

My plan was simple.

I would stay in my seat and avoid making any mistakes.

Unfortunately, the sister had a different idea.

“Let us receive a blessing”

“Why don’t we receive a blessing?” she said with a smile.

“It is a gift from God.”

My immediate reaction was panic.

I had never stood in a Communion line.

I had never spoken to a priest.

And I was still trying to understand what was happening in the Mass.

The sister reassured me.

“Just ask for a blessing and bow your head.”

That sounded simple enough.

At least in theory.

Meeting the priest

When my turn finally came, I stepped forward and somehow managed to say:

“I’d like a blessing, please.”

I was so nervous that I was afraid I might stumble over the words.

The priest prayed over me.

The blessing lasted only a short moment.

But I remember feeling unexpectedly peaceful afterwards.

Then another thought struck me.

“Nobody explained how to leave.”

Trying to look calm and confident, I copied what everyone else was doing, bowed towards the altar, and returned to my seat.

At least, I hoped I looked calm.

In reality, I was probably rather obvious.

“Come again next week”

After Mass, the sister smiled and said:

“You must be tired. Everything was new today.”

She assured me that it would all become easier with time.

When I told her that I wanted to come again the following week, she nodded.

“Take your time. There’s no need to rush.”

But in my heart, I had already made a decision.

If I truly wanted to do this, I needed to keep coming.

If I stopped, I worried that I might never gather the courage again.

Looking back

That decision changed my Sundays.

I became someone who woke up early for Mass.

And with only a few exceptions caused by illness or work, I have continued attending ever since.

Looking back, I smile when I remember how nervous I was.

The Sign of Peace.

The blessing.

The fear of doing something wrong.

At the time, everything felt overwhelming.

Now they are among my favourite memories from the beginning of my journey.