C
casslean
Guest
I had to share these two experiences here, because I really think they offer such an opportunity for each of us to learn and reflect on our own missions within our parishes, and how we might be helping to bring people into the church or drive them away. My apologies if it’s a little disjointed - as you’ll discover if you make it to the end, it’s been a busy few days 
Since joining the church, I’ve been very involved in the Christmas preparations and masses. We hold multiple Christmas Eve masses, and as there is difficulty finding lectors for the Midnight Mass, I agreed to read so it was one less thing the coordinator had to worry about, even though my choir was singing at an earlier Mass. This year’s Midnight Mass was as beautiful as always - perhaps a little less well-attended than in previous years, but those of us who were there listened and participated with a sincerity and intensity that made up for any lack of numbers. I read the first reading, from Isaiah, and it was one of those rare moments where hearing the words, spoken aloud from the ambo, provided a truly touching and moving experience. It was strengthened by the positive comments I received from the other parishioners on my delivery, and the general well-wishes that reminded me that I was among a family. I left with a renewed sense in the wonderful gift I had been given in this faith.
Fast forward to this morning’s Mass. One of the tasks I agreed to help with this year was decorating the church. Ours is a sizeable church, and the task of decorating it took about two days of solid work, in addition to the hour or so of time spent each day since coming in to care for trees and flowers (and make the minor repairs to decorations that always seem to be needed). This morning, I arrived early before the Mass to check that the poinsettias still had enough water, as the church had been warm during both of the previous Masses I had attended the previous night, and I was concerned that our group’s plan to water the poinsettias well on Christmas Eve and then check them December 26 might not suffice (I was right).
After seeing me care for the flowers, one of the parishioners approached me upset about a particular decoration on the sanctuary. I had little to do with the decoration, and said so, but rather than listening when I advised him to speak to the pastor if he was concerned (who had been there to help us decorate, and carefully oversees everything in the church) he proceeded to dress me down - in front of other parishioners - about how “disgraceful” this decoration was and how he was “disgusted” and “offended”, until I finally forcefully stopped him and told him again to take it up with the pastor.
I’m young and a new Catholic - the type of person people insist we need more of in the pews. I love to help and to volunteer. But it’s hard to keep up that enthusiasm when you get met with this type of attitude just because you were there. Just because you were willing to help.
I don’t need any reassurance that this person was wrong to speak to me as he did - I’m confident of that. And I can hold on to the experience of Midnight Mass, the experience of standing in front of that church, my church, with my faith family, and saying the words: “for unto us a child is born, a son given to us…” No one can take that from me, and it is so much more powerful than one person who chooses to be offended by a silly decoration. But as we reflect on what it means to carry out our Saviour’s mission, I think it’s important to reflect on how ALL of our words and actions can and will be interpreted in light of our role of Christ’s disciples. In what we say, and in what we do, are we drawing people closer to God, or pushing them away?
Since joining the church, I’ve been very involved in the Christmas preparations and masses. We hold multiple Christmas Eve masses, and as there is difficulty finding lectors for the Midnight Mass, I agreed to read so it was one less thing the coordinator had to worry about, even though my choir was singing at an earlier Mass. This year’s Midnight Mass was as beautiful as always - perhaps a little less well-attended than in previous years, but those of us who were there listened and participated with a sincerity and intensity that made up for any lack of numbers. I read the first reading, from Isaiah, and it was one of those rare moments where hearing the words, spoken aloud from the ambo, provided a truly touching and moving experience. It was strengthened by the positive comments I received from the other parishioners on my delivery, and the general well-wishes that reminded me that I was among a family. I left with a renewed sense in the wonderful gift I had been given in this faith.
Fast forward to this morning’s Mass. One of the tasks I agreed to help with this year was decorating the church. Ours is a sizeable church, and the task of decorating it took about two days of solid work, in addition to the hour or so of time spent each day since coming in to care for trees and flowers (and make the minor repairs to decorations that always seem to be needed). This morning, I arrived early before the Mass to check that the poinsettias still had enough water, as the church had been warm during both of the previous Masses I had attended the previous night, and I was concerned that our group’s plan to water the poinsettias well on Christmas Eve and then check them December 26 might not suffice (I was right).
After seeing me care for the flowers, one of the parishioners approached me upset about a particular decoration on the sanctuary. I had little to do with the decoration, and said so, but rather than listening when I advised him to speak to the pastor if he was concerned (who had been there to help us decorate, and carefully oversees everything in the church) he proceeded to dress me down - in front of other parishioners - about how “disgraceful” this decoration was and how he was “disgusted” and “offended”, until I finally forcefully stopped him and told him again to take it up with the pastor.
I’m young and a new Catholic - the type of person people insist we need more of in the pews. I love to help and to volunteer. But it’s hard to keep up that enthusiasm when you get met with this type of attitude just because you were there. Just because you were willing to help.
I don’t need any reassurance that this person was wrong to speak to me as he did - I’m confident of that. And I can hold on to the experience of Midnight Mass, the experience of standing in front of that church, my church, with my faith family, and saying the words: “for unto us a child is born, a son given to us…” No one can take that from me, and it is so much more powerful than one person who chooses to be offended by a silly decoration. But as we reflect on what it means to carry out our Saviour’s mission, I think it’s important to reflect on how ALL of our words and actions can and will be interpreted in light of our role of Christ’s disciples. In what we say, and in what we do, are we drawing people closer to God, or pushing them away?
