Mass | The Catholic Realist

Checked Out & Distracted

Posted on June 24, 2013 by ymkbird

This weekend, I was one of many, many Catholics we find in the pews at Mass: Distracted and Checked Out.

Some of it was because I am the mother of three kids who takes her kids to Mass. This means that during various points of the Mass you may find me:

writing my three year old’s name for him over and over on the back of the worship aid just to keep him quiet.
shushing the 6 year old who keeps up a constant stream of chatter no matter the time or location (she even talks in her sleep).
elbowing my 8 year old and pointedly gesturing to the worship aid when he isn’t engaging in “full, active, conscious participation.”

This week, before communion, as I was trying to pray to prepare myself to receive the Eucharist, the 3 year old slipped off the kneeler and smacked his head on the pew and meditative prayer quickly took a back seat to kissing the injury and active pleading to God that he would quiet down so we wouldn’t have to sneak out the side door (He did and we didn’t).

As much as I’d like to blame it all on the kids – it’s not just their fault. At various points during Mass, I caught my mind wandering in ways totally unrelated to their distratctions:

Did my husband take the fish we were planning to have for dinner out of the freezer to thaw?
Is it going to be warm enough to go out on the boat or to the pool?
I should talk to Father about how he could easily Tweet this homily. Maybe I’ll just get him to give me a copy and I’ll Tweet it.
on and on and on….

After Mass I realized that there are a lot of times (not just during Mass) that I’m checked out of and distracted from my faith.

Today, I took some time to pray through the readings for today’s Liturgy of the Hours and found both comfort and challenge. (If you don’t know what Liturgy of the Hours is, that’s okay – I didn’t until a few years ago either!)

Today is the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist, and in reading through the story of his birth, I realized that even some of the holiest, most church-going people in Scriptures shared in the struggle to pray well, to have faith, and to truly engage in that faith.

John the Baptist’s father Zechariah was a priest who knew the promises of Scripture inside and out. While I’m sure he had faith, he also had moments of doubt, moments where he didn’t really believe with his whole heart.

Read his story in Luke 1:5-25, 57-80

Zechariah was like many of us – good people who occasionally check out and end up just going through the motions – so much so that he missed the miracle before him. Zechariah learned to trust God the hard way – nine months of being deaf and dumb. But Zechariah’s 9-month “incarceration” in a prison of silence served a greater purpose: he was able to meditate deeply on Scriptures, and then filled with the Holy Spirit, to proclaim the beautiful canticle that shows what it means to truly believe with all of his heart, soul, mind and strength.

I take comfort in knowing that even a faithful old priest like Zechariah could lose a little bit of his faith, become distracted, and check out. I’m also challenged to make sure it doesn’t take an angel rendering me deaf and dumb for nine months to refocus my heart and bring me back to the joy of a relationship with a living, loving God who fulfills his promises.

The Canticle of Zechariah has been a reminder for me that while God’s faithfulness is not dependent upon my ability to see it, my own faith is. Even if the words don’t always ring true, I pray them with hope that they’ll open my eyes so that I can remain checked in and focused on the victories – large and small – He has won, is winning, and will win for me.

Sacrament of Love

Posted on May 10, 2013 by ymkbird

My son received his First Communion last week. Amidst all the processions, bread sharings, Scapular inductions, white dresses and camera-wielding in laws – amidst all the hoopla – the parish photographer managed to snap this photo of my son at the moment he received Jesus for the first time.

I cannot get enough of this picture. I look at it every day. Not just because it’s my kid (but seriously, check it out – that’s my boy! – he and Jesus are tight now). I also look at it every day because every time I do, the look on his face brings me to tears.

I know my son well enough to know that there are a thousand different thoughts that could have been running through his head at this moment:

Don’t drop it…don’t drop it…don’t drop it…don’t drop it.

I wonder if Mom will let me play Minecraft when we get home.

I hate tacos, why are we having tacos for my First Communion party.

I’m totally giving my load of bread to Zach. He’s cool.

Cake…frosting…cookies…party!

Do I HAVE to take the cup? It tastes nasty.

Father needs to cut his fingernails.

My eyes itch.

(Poor kid had nasty allergies all week – in some of the pictures he looks like he has two black eyes).

As much as I would like to believe he was having a Blessed Imelda Lambertini moment, I know it’s possible (ahem – likely) that’s far from the case. After I saw the picture the next day, I asked him: “What were you thinking about right then?” His response, complete with the dismissive shoulder shrug, was all 8 year old boy: “Dunno. Jesus, I guess. Can I go play a video game now?”

But you know, it kind of doesn’t matter. Because the look on his face in this moment speaks a thousand words. They may not be his words, but I am certain that they are our words. They are the words of the Bride to the Bridegroom – of the Church to Christ – of us to Our Lord. They are the words of the deepest love.

The words of love visible on my son’s face in that moment are an echo of the words of Pope Benedict in his encyclical Sacramentum Caritatis (Sacrament of Love):

Receiving the Eucharist means adoring him whom we receive. Only in this way do we become one with him, and are given, as it were, a foretaste of the beauty of the heavenly liturgy.

Oh, would that our hearts, souls, minds, and faces would reflect this same look each and every time we receive this Sacrament of Love!

The Mass is Long

Posted on March 27, 2013 by RRMM

Not too long ago, I came upon this meme on Facebook….and, boy has it stuck with me.

I’ve read many things written by many saints. But, this particular sentence hit me right where it hurts. Not because I don’t love the Mass and not because I would ever leave early because I “had to be somewhere else.” There is no where I could or would ever need to be that is more important than at Mass.

Sometimes, though, I am internally annoyed because the priest chose the longest Eucharistic prayer. Or, I roll my eyes at my husband when I see which priest is saying Mass because his homilies are always far longer than I think they should be. Or, my favorite priest, much as I love him, decides to sing ALL.THE.MASS.PARTS. Or the choir decides to do an especially long performance type piece a the offeratory. How quick I am to groan, internally or audibly.

I saw this picture and read these words and I was put in my place. It’s a short enough sentence that I can’t forget it. It has stuck with me even though I wasn’t TRYING to get it to stick with me. It jumps directly into my brain as soon as I start to get impatient with something at Mass or if I’m having a rough time with the kids or I am annoyed with someone sitting nearby with their loud breathing or constant chattering.

It’s no one else’s fault, especially not the priests’, that I lose my patience and focus at Mass. MY shortness of love is the problem. And that’s the last kind of love I want to show to my Lord or anyone else. This week more than ever, I pray that I might enjoy all the “long” Masses and events of Holy Week with an abundance of love.

Put Down the Camera…and Slowly Back Away

Posted on June 4, 2012 by ymkbird

I recently attended the last Mass of the school year at my kids’ Catholic school. For those of you not familiar with the Catholic elementary school culture – each week the whole student body attends Mass together. One of the classes “leads” the Mass by doing the readings, bringing up the gifts, serving, carrying up the processional cross, etc.

This week, it was the 4 year old Kindergarten class that finally got its turn. They can barely (if at all) read so the readings were done one sentence at a time – and, I suspect, memorized. The typical Kindergarten Mass characters were present including:

The girl who doesn’t believe the microphone will pick up her voice, so she shouts her line.
The shorty whose hairline is barely visible above the top of the ambo.
The boy who forgets how to pronounce at least one of the words on his construction paper mounted sheet.
The teacher frantically motioning that the children holding the psalm response poster board have it upside down.

It may not have been the highest of liturgy, but it was cute – and there certainly is something moving about watching 15 Kindergarteners belt out every word to “I Love You, Lord” and know (because I know their music teacher) that they understand it to be a song of praise to our God.

What’s not so moving: 15 parents in the back of church running around with video and digital cameras trying to capture every cute moment for posterity.

I have little kids – I have the boy who shouted into the mic when it was his turn to read part of the 1st reading last year, and I anticipate my daughter will be one who holds the poster upside down (she can be a little ditzy) – so I certainly understand the desire to capture the moment.

But at what cost?

TGOF

Posted on April 27, 2012 by RRMM

TGIF! Thank God It’s Friday, the world is shouting. And, it’s true. I’m pretty sure there’s not a person you could talk to today who wouldn’t agree that they are thankful that it’s Friday.

But, I think I want to commandeer the TGIF expression and change it to TGOF – Thanking God On Friday. As we are all prone to celebrating the end of the week and the freedom of the weekend ahead, maybe we should take a few minutes to look over the past week and say “Thank You, God, for all the good things that happened this week.”

So, here I go. I’m going to set the TGOF ball rolling…

Saturday – I am thankful that the weather was nice and we were able to enjoy the Bloomin’ Festival as a family.

Sunday – I am thankful that we had a good turn out and a great night at youth group.

Monday – I am thankful for all the great people on the Pastoral Council who work so hard to serve the parish.

Tuesday – I am thankful for a great friend who invited me out for “grown-up time” and for my husband making it possible for me to hang out with her.

Wednesday – I am thankful for Mass and Chick-fil-A breakfast with a faithful group of teens. Also, for good conversation with the evening Bible Study group.

Thursday – I am thankful for generous people who gave me maternity clothes and some new shoes for my son. Also, for good dinner provided by my mom and for a mini-doctor’s appointment for the baby with Dad.

Friday – I am thankful that it IS Friday and also that the weather’s warm enough for my niece and nephew to come over and swim with their cousin.

(One thing I am NOT thankful for on this Friday, though, is that a chipmunk got into the kitchen from the screened porch, where the cat was tormenting it. And, now it’s trapped under some cabinets until my husband gets some. Ooooh, that scratching noise is NOT cool.)

So, I hope you’ll take a moment to TGOF today. Hopefully you’ll be pleasantly surprised by all the GREAT things that happened this past week. Enjoy your weekend!

This chart has nothing to do with this blog. But, it's good for a laugh on a Friday.

Good Coffee won’t save your soul – Part 3

Posted on March 17, 2012 by chriskmn

What do we do when we go to Mass and we “don’t get anything out of it?”

I think at some point in the Mass as our boredom or frustration mount, we have to make a decision. Are we going to let something as insignificant as bad coffee get in the way of encountering God?

Sometimes going to Mass is like getting great coffee in a bad cup.

The other day I bought a coffee and didn’t realize that the seal on the bottom of the cup was imperfect. The leaking coffee made huge stains over the front my sweater. I was hacked off to the point of not being able to enjoy the coffee. Then I considered that there was nothing I could do to change the cup at that moment, so either I could be angry and not enjoy my coffee or I could drink it and enjoy every drop that wasn’t on my shirt.

Even when everything seems to be going wrong at Mass, God is still present. And if God is present, we have an opportunity to find Him. The path to finding God in the midst of the messiness of imperfect Church is a shift in focus from our needs or wants to God’s outpouring of love. When we move our focus from us to God, the bad coffee matters less and less. In other words we have to name the coffee as bad, and then get over it.

This is hard.

It is hard to experience God in the midst of poorly done Church. So what do we do? I don’t have a great answer. I wish I did. What I do have are two suggestions for making sure every time we walk out of Mass we know God moved in us. Read More

Good coffee won’t save your soul – Part 2

Posted on March 12, 2012 by chriskmn

Why are we so infatuated with coffee or preaching or music, if it isn’t the most important thing? Are we that shallow? Why do we lose the point in the midst of all the things trying to make the point?

We know when we have a good cup of coffee.

Things like coffee can be judged and measured. We know when we have heard a good homily because we have an emotional or intellectual reaction. We know when the music works for us because our toe taps, and we are tempted, dare I say it, to sing and pray along. We know when we walk into a church, look up into the mosaic covered dome and utter “Oh my God” (not at all in vain) in reaction the undeniable beauty before our eyes.

We want to know something has happened when we go to Church. We want to be able to observe or even measure the value we received. If Church is going to be worth our time, we want to know that it worked. Not only do we want Church to be actually good for us, we want to be aware, to know, that it was good.

Thus, we put more importance on good music, entertaining preaching (did I laugh?), and coffee because when those things are good, we know we got something out of Mass. When those things aren’t good we often walk out of Mass and don’t know that we were affected. We may even think nothing has happened. Read More

Jesus Trusts ME?!?

Posted on March 7, 2012 by RRMM

This morning at the Wednesday morning Mass with some of the teens from our youth group, Fr. Joy made a very interesting point in his homily. He said that Jesus had to trust his apostles and disciples, that they would carry out the mission he had left for them.

Jesus had to trust others. He had to trust those he was teaching and guiding.

  Jesus had to trust.

Trusting is a very human thing. It’s something that we have to constantly work on and make a concerted effort to have. We work to have trustworthy friends and spouses. We pray that we might be able to trust in the Lord, in His plan for our lives. Many of us struggle with trusting due to things that have happened to us throughout our life that have broken our ability to easily trust.

And, yet, Jesus had to trust, too. Jesus, who was God, who knew how it would all turn out, had to work on the very human act of trusting in his followers. Read More

Cry Room Evangelists

Posted on February 7, 2012 by RRMM

There’s a space in every church, hidden away in corners and behind pews. It’s the place where tiny little Catholics get taken because they are too noisy or distracting. It’s a room of pure chaos, noise, snacks, and understanding looks. You may know it as The Cry Room, The Quieting Room, The Parents & Toddlers Room…

But, I know it as “My Own Personal Hell.”

That's probably not how the babies feel...but, you never know!

I seriously hate the cry room with a burning passion. During this first year of my son’s life, my husband and I have had an ongoing discussion about what to do with our son during Mass. Because of my position as youth minister, we sit in the very front row of the church with the teens, directly in front of Father and the rest of the congregation. Not exactly a convenient location for “easy escapes” with an overly active child.

Initially, having him at Mass was no problem – he mostly slept. Then, he began getting mobile…and noisy. Trips to the back of the church or the cry room became more frequent. Now, at 14 months, one of us has to sit in the cry room with him because he can’t even make it through the processional hymn without trying to dive from our arms onto the floor. Read More

Taking My Kids to Mass: An Email Response

Posted on January 31, 2012 by chriskmn

My Girls at Easter. It was kinda cold.

Last week I wrote about taking my kids to Mass, about being the monkey bars for my two year old to climb on for about 46 minutes of the hour. I was a little worried that I was going to offend some parents who either have absolutely no problem with their children at Mass (you know, “that family”), or that I was going to offend the people who have it even rougher, (the other “that family”). We sat next to the other family at Christmas this year. Despite chocolate chip cookies (my kids were wondering where their cookies were), countless books, and the kind of toys that are perfect for pounding on a wooden pew, these kids were a wreck and had a tough Mass. I felt for the parents and spent a good portion of my post communion time praying for them.

In fact, I did get one email with some pretty strongly worded suggestions – from my wife. Read More