Saturday Afternoon Church

I have resigned myself to attending Catholic Mass with mother every Saturday at 5pm. But, I am no longer going inside the chapel or whatever they call the room with the stained glass where the service is held. I drive mom to the church and help her to her seat, next to the wall, behind the organist. She moves very slowly, with her walker, and sits throughout the entire service. I tried sitting in the pews but I had no idea when to sit, stand and kneel. I moved to the back so I wouldn't attract attention to myself, but there was a woman who kept glaring at me. How very "Christian" of her. I wondered if she might have been somebody from my high school. Anyhow, now I sit outside, in the hallway, where the service can be heard via a sound system.

I can't stand the music. Boring and uninspired. I'm sure the singing organist is doing the best she can, but I surely don't get any uplifting feeling from the songs. There are 2 priests. One who radiates (in my opinion), kindness, and another who seems like he has a closed heart. The good priest gave a sermon that was very authentic and human and at the end of that mass, I went up to him and shook his hand and said "You are a good man.". I don't know why - I just felt the need to say it. But I did. Of course, this mortified mother (this was when she agreed it was a good idea that I didn't sit next to her during the mass).

Last week, while resting just outside the doors to the chapel, I was, for some reason, focused on the monotone rote proclamations of the congregation, after several of the priest's statements ("and also with you", etc). I wondered if the people were "feeling it", when they said these words or were they just automatic responses like "have a nice day" or "you're welcome"? Just when I was having these thoughts, two little boys made a mad dash through the foyer. They were giggling and wrestling and having a grand time. They pressed the tops of several of the electric candles placed near the door, lighting up unknown prayers for the faithful. Their mortified mother tried to round them up and their very stern grandma took the older boy (maybe 3 years old) by the arm and he screamed "I'm sorry!!! I won't do it again!" as she lead him outside to the parking lot. I wondered if a spanking was on the agenda? Later, she lead him back inside and the two brothers giggled and continued playing.

Surprisingly, the priest's sermon (is that what they call it?) was about brothers and obedience to one's parents. The first son told his father he would do a chore but never did it. The second son said he would not do it, but guilt caused him to change his mind and perform the task. Jesus was the third son, who not only agreed to do the task but followed through and did it. That Jesus - always showing up his brothers.

I felt more inspired watching the little boys tussle and giggle in the foyer, than I did listening to the sermon. Aren't we all spirits having a human experience? Weren't these small children doing what came naturally to them? To me, they were being real and "living in the moment", instead of those inside the chapel, being on autopilot, robotically repeating words that were drilled into them. Their little faces expressed joy and they seemed truly alive. Unlike many who left the mass early, right after eating their wafer. They seemed to be there out of a sense of guilt and duty.

Maybe I'm totally wrong about this and I don't mean to offend anybody but I just don't get it, I suppose. However, mother was very happy after the mass.