Urrrgh…
Kasia August 20th, 2007
Don’t mind me. I’m still twitching.
The Canuck was in town this weekend, and didn’t sleep well Saturday night. As a result, he was exhausted when it was time to get up and go to church Sunday morning, so we decided not to drive the 1/2 hour each way to the parish I belong to; instead we’d catch a slightly later Mass at my territorial parish, which is maybe 1/4 mile from my home.
In case you were wondering why I don’t go to my territorial parish, I’m hoping this account will clarify things for you.
Before I start, though, I must stress that this was not the parish I attended for Assumption last Wednesday. That was an entirely different parish. And as an editorial correction, I found out for certain who the priest was at the other parish who did that interesting twist on the offertory. He is not the new associate pastor; he’s just been filling in there until the new associate pastor arrived.
Anyway. The Canuck and I were running a little late, having had the opportunity to lounge a bit before it was time to go to Mass, and got in about 5 minutes before Mass was scheduled to begin. I was pretty embarrassed, as I try very hard not to play “beat the priest” – I think it’s disrespectful – but I understand that it happens. Happens to me, happens to everyone, and we just (one hopes) all do our best not to let it happen often.
There were only about a dozen people in the church when we arrived. Well, maybe two dozen. About four minutes after we arrived (so about one minute before Mass was scheduled to begin, and yes, the procession was lined up at the back of the church to begin Mass) a flood of people arrived.
“OK,” I thought. “It’s drizzly outside, and that makes everyone run a little slower. Plus I’m sure a lot of these folks have kids, and that can slow you down too. And Heaven knows I run late sometimes – the Canuck jokes about my having come on my due date being the last time I was on time for anything.” So I didn’t think much of it – I figured it was unlikely that they were ALL just running late this once, but I also figured, quite rightly, I think, that it really wasn’t my concern. That was between them and God.
So Mass began.
And at least at first, it was pretty uneventful. I don’t like that the tabernacle is kept off in a side chapel, but they had added a corpus to the cross since last I was there (which was probably Assumption last year), and the priest was doing a fairly good, reasonably reverent job. Of course, 90% or more of the chairs (not pews, chairs) didn’t have kneelers, and I hadn’t realized any of them did at all, so I hadn’t thought to scout us out chairs with kneelers, so I wasn’t sure what the Canuck was going to do when the Consecration started (I don’t have knee or back problems to speak of, so kneeling on the floor isn’t an issue for me at present). But apart from having difficulty blocking out the infants and toddlers who were fussing, I wasn’t having any real issues. The Gospel reading actually had a Gloria *after* as well as before, so I automatically sat down before I realized everyone else was still standing. Whoops – I jumped back up. Figured hey, a little more praise of God can never be a bad thing, right?
Then the homily started.
Father started off talking about how it can be difficult to go against the grain. Fair enough. Then he started talking about people who have done just that, citing (St.) Joan of Arc, (St.) Thomas More, Dorothy Day…all fine so far. Then he mentioned Mahatma Gandhi.
Errmmm…ok, well, citing him as someone who went against the grain…OK.
He mentioned a couple of others, then Martin Luther King Jr.
Again…errrmmm…ok…yeah…
Then he said, “All these have died in Christ.”
‘Scuse me?
MLK was, at least, a Christian. Gandhi wasn’t.
To be perfectly clear here, I’m not taking issue with the possibility that Mahatma Gandhi is in Heaven. He may well be. The Church does teach that, while the Church possesses the fullness of Truth, that depending on various circumstances someone outside the Church may be saved.
No, that’s not what turned my head. What turned my head was his stating as plain fact that Gandhi died in Christ. Whether he meant in baptism (and to my knowledge Gandhi was never baptized) or in literal death, I can’t see it applying. Christ died for all of us, yes, but does it follow that we all die in Christ? If so, what’s the point of saying it?
Then he went on to cite Bishop Gumbleton as another brave soul who, according to this priest, is being punished by the higher-ups in the Church for “daring to question the authenticity of our witness.” Mmm. No comment.
Finally, he cued the music. I didn’t know Garth Brooks counted as “sacred music”.
Yes. He played Standing Outside the Fire. After the two introductory verses and choruses, during the instrumental portion, he came back to the microphone and intoned a few tight sentences about how we need to be inside the fire. Then Garth finished up.
The Canuck and I looked at each other.
The offertory started. The Canuck leaned over to me and whispered, “Would you like me to keep the check in my pocket?”
I whispered back, “I’m tempted. What do you think?”
“Honestly,” he whispered back, “I can’t in good conscience support this kind of thing.”
I agreed, and we passed the basket without contributing.
The rest of the Mass was relatively uneventful too – I only saw one person besides myself and the Canuck kneeling for the Consecration, and because I was kneeling near the back I couldn’t see what the priest’s behavior was like at all. And when I walked up and opened my mouth to receive on the tongue (like I always do), I thought the priest hesitated a moment. I half wondered if he wasn’t going to give me the Eucharist. But he did.
The one thing I have to say in defense of the priest is that he seemed to be a basically decent guy who really cares about living a Christian life. He’s not like a lot of apathetic priests I’ve encountered.
That doesn’t mean he isn’t sincerely wrong.
The other thing that really bothered both of us was the behavior of some of the children there. Now, I’ve said before and I’ll say again, babies crying at Mass doesn’t much bother me, provided the parents are paying enough attention that they figure out when the little one needs to be taken out into the narthex. Same goes for small children who are too small to really know better, and even older small children who probably ought to know better but are misbehaving. Kids are kids. As long as you’re being a reasonably responsible parent, I don’t really care to put up a fuss about noise.
This parish didn’t have a cry room. However, a few people who were sitting in the back of the church seemed to think that there was an invisible wall in front of their section that created a cry room. One woman was interacting with her two-or-three-year-old son in a normal speaking voice throughout most of the Mass. I also heard some noises from an electronic game (which, mercifully, was either taken away or at least muted early in the Mass). Etc, etc.
interesting post. gandhi was inspired greatly by the gita, though he studied man major religions and saw unity in them all. check out this site about mahatama gandhi and the bhagvad gita”>at http://www.gitananda.org
Indeed – I know I’ve heard a variety of statements attributed to Gandhi about religions having a unifying theme, saying that he saw beauty in Christianity but that the core of it was the same as other religions, saying that he would become a Christian if only Christians acted like Christians, etc. Again, I’m not taking issue with the possibility that he’s in Heaven, though the Church does not pronounce on the post-earthly-death status of non-Catholics. In fact, she doesn’t even pronounce on the post-earthly-death status of most Catholics. She only does so when she canonizes someone.
Incidentally, I think that the Church would agree to a limited extent with Gandhi’s seeing unity in all religions. The main difference, as I understand it, is that the Church would say that (probably with a few exceptions) they are efforts to come closer to God, but that other religions are correct or incorrect about the nature of God, etc, insofar as they agree or disagree with the Catholic understanding.
I’ll check out your site this evening. Thanks for commenting.
Egad, what a car wreck! Sorry, I would have left and then driven however much time it took to get to my “regular” parish. Reading about that homily suddenly makes we want to run over to the rectory at St. Joseph’s and give Fr. John and Fr. Michael a big hug for being good priests. Okay, I have had to bop Fr. Michael one over the head for using feminine pronouns when referring to the Holy Spirit (he just laughs and points out it does get my attention, if not my goat), but it is made up for in his devotion to Our Blessed Mother. But to say what this priest said – and then play Garth Brooks!?!? Good Lord, if one of them tried that, I think at least one parishioner would race up to the front, feel his forehead, and then summon the paramedics to attend to the feverish priest!
Ugh. I hate bad homilies, and worse choice of sacred music.
As parents of 4 (soon to be 5), and having attended churches without cry-rooms (or reasonable facsimiles thereof), we are very aware of what our children are doing during mass. Heck, I’ve taken my kids out of the cry-room because they were being too disruptive. I carried Peter outside the building once, through a door that I didn’t realize would lock, and had to walk the entire way around the education area to come back in the main doors.
Sunday at Mass, Mya was “helping” Father during the Consecration. She was whisked outside and settled down. I really don’t understand the thinking of parents who let their kids run amok in a Church, during Mass or otherwise.
Are you sure this is a Catholic Church? It sounds like the college where I went-we had nuns who supported homosexuality. Oh Boy-I think I hear the theme song to Jaws.
Yeah, no guesses as to why you don’t go there regularly.
Honestly, you might want to check with a priest about whether Mass with Garth Brooks music counts toward your Sunday obligation…
Whenever I’ve been in that kind of situation, I just fold my hands, close my eyes and keep telling myself, “it’s still a valid Mass, it’s still a valid Mass, it’s still a valid Mass…”