Was I wrong? question about Christmas & Easter Catholics

[MarieVeronica]

Hi “grandiosa”. Sorry to hear it! Although Easter Mass was absolutely wonderful at our parish… there was a similar incident.

Since we attended a very early Mass… where we didn’t have the assistance of our “regular ushers”… I seated my mother (who was in her wheelchair) and I, down in the very front row. That way, our beloved Pastor… who knows my mothers needs… would be able to give her Holy Communion, easily. I should mention here… that the front row is just a few feet from the altar, and separated from the seats… by only 3 steps.

Just before Mass started… a couple arrived with two young boys. It wasn’t long… before the younger child (who appeared to be around 5)… started to act up… BADLY. Among his antics…

Throwing two cast metal cars all over the floor, during Mass… (seemingly) just to hear them “clank”.

Jumping up and down, out of his seat…

Screaming, crying and whining…

AND… his grand finale… as one of the Extraordinary Ministers brought the Blessed Sacrament forward (we have one of those little side chapels)… this child JUMPED in front of her, making it necessary for her to hold the ciborium way up over her head… and sidestep, to avoid bumping into him.

You might be asking… “did the parents intervene at that point?” They did not. :nope: WELL AFTER, all of the above had occurred… Dad finally decided to “get involved” and he wrapped the little guy up, in his arms. Of course, that didn’t go over well with the child.

Several times… I saw our Pastor give a disapproving glance their way… which seemed to go completely unnoticed by the parents. And during Holy Communion, he went along the front row… and stopped with them, and said a private word. I can only imagine that it was a quiet admonishment.

Whether these folks were regular attendee’s… or “Easter/Christmas” Catholics… or perhaps, even another denomination altogether… I do not know. They certainly didn’t seem to know enough to take the little boy out into the Narthex… at the height of his shenanigans. I guess, at these special times… we just need to take it with a grain of salt and try to be patient.

Thankfully, mother and I were able to concentrate and participate in the Mass… anyway. We were just so happy to be there.

 

[JustAnotherThou]

You did nothing wrong. Pray for her and don’t let this expereince bother you any further!!

 

[journey137]

I also think what you did was right. There’s always at least one of those moments in every church I think. We went to the Easter Vigil Mass as we usually do, with a 2.5 month old baby that likes to cluster nurse in the evenings. I decided I would go sit with her in the gathering area for a bit because the couches there are much more comfortable than the pews and there were fewer people around (Emma’s taken to throwing the nursing cover off lately so I wanted there to be as few witnesses as possible if I got exposed ). While she was nursing a family (obviously not Catholic but there because a family member was entering the church) with two small children were also out there. The littlest one was probably 3 or 4 and she was literally running circles screaming. To distract her, the mother would say “See the baby over there? Why don’t you go look at the baby?” HELLO!! I’m nursing the baby and trying to listen to mass, why would I want a wound-up toddler over by me trying to check out my baby? When the baptisms started some people left the church and stopped to talk to this family. One of the ladies that left church was saying how the service was sooooo long, they could have cut out some of the singing, why couldn’t they speed things up, etc… it irritated me so badly hearing her condemn what turned out to be one of the shorter Vigil’s we’ve been to, and it was only about half over when she left! They were talking very loudly so I missed a chunk of the service because I couldn’t hear the speakers over their chatter. She was obviously a Catholic, she should have known that mass was longer than usual. I was so mad I went back inside and decided if I had to nurse again, I’d just do it in the pew and if someone accidentally saw something, too bad. I wanted to tell that lady to be quiet and just leave if she was going to because others were trying to pay attention to a very special mass, but I couldn’t think of a way to say it that didn’t end in me yelling at her so I didn’t say anything.

 

[JanetF]

We got to Mass early enough yesterday to be able to sit. However, my choice of seat because faulty due to the family who was seated behind us. They had a conversation is very unhushed tones before Mass. I was apalled and made a point of shushing my own child when she whispered to me (whispered, mind you), that once inside the church NO TALKING, but it didn’t register with them. I too try to be patient, but that’s not one of my strongest virtues , so I tend to get passive-aggressive, i.e, when my dd turns around to see who is coming/going, I gently place my hand on her head and turn her head forward stating “what’s going on up there is all you need be concerned about”.

The family behind us yesterday was announcing all the arrivals of their friends…At least they calmed down when Mass began.

Sorry you had some a distracting experience. Sometimes the distraction is too hard to ignore.

 

[grandiosa]

I actually take coloring books for my son. If he doesn’t have a book or something to mess with, he will try to destroy the missals.

I actually have no problem with quietly used coloring books. They keep a kid still and as long as the pages aren’t ruffled constantly, are one of the better alternatives. Especially religious coloring books! But I am sure Dora and Spidey are fine with the Lord, too.

We sometimes bring our paperback St. Joseph children’s books. However, I find that they often cause more trouble than help, because my middle two, who are only 16 months apart, fight over them!

Our littlest ones do bring toys sometimes, but the rule is that it must be soft and no noisemakers. My current baby has a very soft little doll, but we don’t even bring that because there is a rattle inside it. And she is usually barefoot in Mass, because she yells when she wants her shoes off, and has discovered how they bang, too.

Whoever said they are called missals because we so often want to throw them at someone… thank you so much for the laugh. I needed it!

Part of the reason I got so upset about this is that I do really try not to be one of those nasty, recriminating people who make people feel bad about their kids. I want people to bring their kids to Mass. We always have because we feel it’s so important for it to be part of their lives from the very beginning. That’s true for others’ children too. I have been so blessed, here, that the number of older people who smile and offer sympathy and share their own stories has greatly outnumbered the ones who have a bad attitude about kids’ normal stuff. I don’t want to be ungrateful for that blessing by not passing it on.

But some stuff is just way over the line. I agree that other people in the pew were probably grateful I said something. It’s just lonely being the one that gets attacked like that, and it made me question myself. I didn’t even have DH to hug me or pat me on the back, because he had to take the fussy little one out right after it all happened!

On a different note… I am pretty sure the dad of those kids was there too. Boy does that dude need to MAN UP! If I had allowed our children to act that way, or been that loud myself, my husband would have shut me down right quick!

 

[sanctamaria17]

Grandiosa, I think you did the right thing. As for whether or not this lady can be excused because she doesn’t know, I would have to say no. My dad, an atheist who never attends church, certainly made sure we were respectful in any house of worship we happened to be in, whether for funerals, weddings, baptisms, etc. You don’t have to be a churchgoer to understand that.

I love kids too and I try to be tolerant of little ones, but parents should know better. I don’t care if kids are playing with coloring books, nursing, etc, but if they’re loud, playing around, etc, they should be taken out, or at least corrected. As for babies, if they were crying, I would think a parent would want to take them out to see if they need a diaper change, etc, but I don’t have children so I don’t know.

 

[The_Catechumen]

Oh dear… we’re sharing Easter horror stories in this thread. I was going to keep this to myself, but I guess I should add mine.

My first Mass ever was this past Palm Sunday. (Yes, I’m a very recent addition to the Church!) I attend a California Mission parish and to be honest, I rather expected the huge turnout that we had throughout Holy Week. It was quite exhilarating. But the Easter service was just nuts…

Even though I’ve lived a block away from the Mission for the past six years, I’d never seen the inside of the Old Church before. Aside from being a tourist attraction, I’m told that it’s usually reserved for weddings and funerals. As a funeral director, I had yet to work a Funeral Mass in the Old Church; in my experience, Catholic families generally prefer the main parish facilities where usual worship happens. But there’s something about the old adobe construction of the Old Church: something that not only amplifies the chorus and the readers and the priest, but also the misbehaving kids. This hadn’t been an issue for the previous week, since what kids and teens were there for Good Friday and Palm Sunday were remarkably well-behaved, in spite of being numbered in the many hundreds.

Naturally, I dress well for Church services. Given the overwhelmingly blue-collar core of the parish, it’s pretty clear that my suit and tie consitute a flagrant overdress (though I’ve been reassured that people do indeed appreciate the example). For Easter Sunday, I chose my funeral service power suit: a bereavement black coat, matching slacks, slate gray shirt and a blood red tie. Let there be no false modesty: this is the best of my Sunday Best. I took my seat and was ready for the service.

Behind me was a family of about six or seven (I don’t quite recall) including three rowdy boys aged six to twelve. The youngest one squealed loudly when the oldest one took away the Nerf football he had. Their dad loudly admonished them to knock it off, his voice carrying well over the microphoned priest at the altar. In a spat of brattiness, the boy pelted his little brother with the football. Did I have eyes in the back of my head to know this? No, heard the ball go foomp against his head, which then immediately rebounded against MY head with the same foomp sound, except loudly against my own skull. In real time, the sounds were more like foomp-FOOMP Sure, I heard the younger boy crying loudly behind me, but I was dumbfounded at the situation, staring down for a moment at the ball which had landed in my lap.

I was incredulous. I’ve seen a lot of really weird things happen at funerals, including one instance of a griefstricken widow trying to leap into a casket at a wake. Or the time a kid’s cell phone went off at a VFW service to the tune of “Real N*gga Roll Call” by Lil Jon. But the Nerf football in my lap at the Easter memorial service for Jesus Christ truly took the cake. Was this really happening? Could I let this stand?

But stand I did. I don’t remember the actual act of standing up in my pew in the middle of the service. But I remember turning around and facing the family and the (now silent) boys. I’m used to seeing people with expressions of shock and horror, such as they had as the attention of roughly two thousand people was now squarely on them and me. I just smiled; it’s the same practiced smile I use in a (usually futile) attempt to calm and reassure bereaved families. My friend and RCIA sponsor who saw this up close later called it “the undertaker’s aura”. For better or for worse, it certainly seemed to stop the whole process in its tracks.

I looked down at the older boy, who was beet red from guilt and embarassment and on the virge of tears. He really looked a lot like this guy → I held the ball at eye level between us and said, “Thanks for this.” Then I took my seat, pocketing the ball.

A couple short minutes later, the family vacated the pew and left. The kid did not ask for the ball back.

I’d like to think I’m a compassionate and patient man. I’m pretty sure I was willing to put up with this noisy bunch through the whole service. But there are some things that you just don’t do a man. Pelting one with a foam rubber ball in the middle of the holiest Church service of the year is one of these things. Fortunately I was congratulated and pretty much vindicated by congregants afterward. Even the priest had a good laugh about it. “Welcome to the Church,” he said. “Hopefully we can get you to be an usher one of these days.”

The ball is now on my bookshelf next to my Bible. I intend to keep it as a reminder of the power of patience. We’ll see where it goes, but in all this has been a pretty auspicious beginning to my faith journey.

 

[Jennifer_J]

Mass should not equal this: :ballspin: (sorry, no NERF smilie)

or this!

:stretcher:

I’m sorry this happened to you, TheCatechumen, but you have a GREAT story to tell

 

[ChristinaM]

I looked down at the older boy, who was beet red from guilt and embarassment and on the virge of tears. He really looked a lot like this guy → I held the ball at eye level between us and said, “Thanks for this.” Then I took my seat, pocketing the ball.

A couple short minutes later, the family vacated the pew and left. The kid did not ask for the ball back.

Hopefully you taught those boys a lesson about decorum in Church that they won’t soon forget! Sad that their parents didn’t seem equal to the task - but sometimes children will pay more mind to a stranger than they will their own mom and dad.

 

[MarieVeronica]

On a different note… I am pretty sure the dad of those kids was there too. Boy does that dude need to MAN UP! If I had allowed our children to act that way, or been that loud myself, my husband would have shut me down right quick!

“grandiosa” Yes! This was exactly the situation with the rowdy little guy at our Mass. “Dad” didn’t step up till AFTER multiple disturbances had occurred. I glanced over at him, a couple times… and he just sat there… watching the child misbehave! “Mom” wasn’t much help, either. Every now and then… she would kind of give him a little push. And then, ignore him.

Sad that their parents didn’t seem equal to the task - but sometimes children will pay more mind to a stranger than they will their own mom and dad.

Ok, maybe you folks who have kids can explain this one to me. How does a parent NOT “seem equal to the task” of disciplining a child who needs correction? I don’t understand. Is it fear of making a public scene? Or what? Because my parents sure weren’t fearful of public correction! My sisters and I could write several volumes, I’m sure.

I think the Good Lord knew exactly what He was doing… when He decided that I would NOT be a parent. :blushing:

I would fear much more, of remaining in a public place… if my child was misbehaving than of the momentary embarrassment of “escorting” them to a place where they could quiet down.

 

[grandiosa]

Ok, maybe you folks who have kids can explain this one to me. How does a parent NOT “seem equal to the task” of disciplining a child who needs correction? I don’t understand. Is it fear of making a public scene? Or what?

I think some people are trying to avoid being embarassed in public. But honestly, I would be much more embarassed to have people looking at my kids and going, “Why doesn’t she discipline those little brats?” than to have people see me discipline my little brats. And yes, they are brats sometimes.

Much of the time, though, the parents are just weaklings. It’s not other people’s disapproval that worries them. It’s their children’s. I kid you not. Some people are so unwilling to displease their little cherubs and be unpopular that they totally abdicate being a parent. They buy peace at the price of their child never growing up. You’ve met those people that seem to think the world revolves around them and who are impervious to the idea that they might ever be in the wrong? They had parents who always backed down and gave in in order to stop the nagging or whining, to be popular, to be their kid’s friend. Good parents go through a lot of pain and embarassment, and take a lot of complaining and dirty looks from their kids, face the dreaded “I hate you,” because we refuse to give in to the whining and nagging. We are willing to be unpopular for the good of our children. We are willing to risk the public scene because we know that in the end, discipline makes our children grow up to be better people.

Being a good parent is really hard, and it takes alot more effort than being a popular parent. That’s why the problem of weak parents who don’t act like parents and claim their authority has become such an epidemic.

 

[maryj]

Oh dear… we’re sharing Easter horror stories in this thread. I was going to keep this to myself, but I guess I should add mine.

My first Mass ever was this past Palm Sunday. (Yes, I’m a very recent addition to the Church!) I attend a California Mission parish and to be honest, I rather expected the huge turnout that we had throughout Holy Week. It was quite exhilarating. But the Easter service was just nuts…

Even though I’ve lived a block away from the Mission for the past six years, I’d never seen the inside of the Old Church before. Aside from being a tourist attraction, I’m told that it’s usually reserved for weddings and funerals. As a funeral director, I had yet to work a Funeral Mass in the Old Church; in my experience, Catholic families generally prefer the main parish facilities where usual worship happens. But there’s something about the old adobe construction of the Old Church: something that not only amplifies the chorus and the readers and the priest, but also the misbehaving kids. This hadn’t been an issue for the previous week, since what kids and teens were there for Good Friday and Palm Sunday were remarkably well-behaved, in spite of being numbered in the many hundreds.

Naturally, I dress well for Church services. Given the overwhelmingly blue-collar core of the parish, it’s pretty clear that my suit and tie consitute a flagrant overdress (though I’ve been reassured that people do indeed appreciate the example). For Easter Sunday, I chose my funeral service power suit: a bereavement black coat, matching slacks, slate gray shirt and a blood red tie. Let there be no false modesty: this is the best of my Sunday Best. I took my seat and was ready for the service.

Behind me was a family of about six or seven (I don’t quite recall) including three rowdy boys aged six to twelve. The youngest one squealed loudly when the oldest one took away the Nerf football he had. Their dad loudly admonished them to knock it off, his voice carrying well over the microphoned priest at the altar. In a spat of brattiness, the boy pelted his little brother with the football. Did I have eyes in the back of my head to know this? No, heard the ball go foomp against his head, which then immediately rebounded against MY head with the same foomp sound, except loudly against my own skull. In real time, the sounds were more like foomp-FOOMP Sure, I heard the younger boy crying loudly behind me, but I was dumbfounded at the situation, staring down for a moment at the ball which had landed in my lap.

I was incredulous. I’ve seen a lot of really weird things happen at funerals, including one instance of a griefstricken widow trying to leap into a casket at a wake. Or the time a kid’s cell phone went off at a VFW service to the tune of “Real N*gga Roll Call” by Lil Jon. But the Nerf football in my lap at the Easter memorial service for Jesus Christ truly took the cake. Was this really happening? Could I let this stand?

But stand I did. I don’t remember the actual act of standing up in my pew in the middle of the service. But I remember turning around and facing the family and the (now silent) boys. I’m used to seeing people with expressions of shock and horror, such as they had as the attention of roughly two thousand people was now squarely on them and me. I just smiled; it’s the same practiced smile I use in a (usually futile) attempt to calm and reassure bereaved families. My friend and RCIA sponsor who saw this up close later called it “the undertaker’s aura”. For better or for worse, it certainly seemed to stop the whole process in its tracks.

I looked down at the older boy, who was beet red from guilt and embarassment and on the virge of tears. He really looked a lot like this guy → I held the ball at eye level between us and said, “Thanks for this.” Then I took my seat, pocketing the ball.

A couple short minutes later, the family vacated the pew and left. The kid did not ask for the ball back.

I’d like to think I’m a compassionate and patient man. I’m pretty sure I was willing to put up with this noisy bunch through the whole service. But there are some things that you just don’t do a man. Pelting one with a foam rubber ball in the middle of the holiest Church service of the year is one of these things. Fortunately I was congratulated and pretty much vindicated by congregants afterward. Even the priest had a good laugh about it. “Welcome to the Church,” he said. “Hopefully we can get you to be an usher one of these days.”

The ball is now on my bookshelf next to my Bible. I intend to keep it as a reminder of the power of patience. We’ll see where it goes, but in all this has been a pretty auspicious beginning to my faith journey.

You da man. I never want the undertaker in his funeral service power suit to be standing over me looking down , unless I’m laying stretched out in the box. May God Bless you in ways too numerous to count.

 

[MarieVeronica]

I think some people are trying to avoid being embarassed in public. But honestly, I would be much more embarassed to have people looking at my kids and going, “Why doesn’t she discipline those little brats?” than to have people see me discipline my little brats. And yes, they are brats sometimes.

Much of the time, though, the parents are just weaklings. It’s not other people’s disapproval that worries them. It’s their children’s. I kid you not. Some people are so unwilling to displease their little cherubs and be unpopular that they totally abdicate being a parent. They buy peace at the price of their child never growing up. You’ve met those people that seem to think the world revolves around them and who are impervious to the idea that they might ever be in the wrong? They had parents who always backed down and gave in in order to stop the nagging or whining, to be popular, to be their kid’s friend. Good parents go through a lot of pain and embarassment, and take a lot of complaining and dirty looks from their kids, face the dreaded “I hate you,” because we refuse to give in to the whining and nagging. We are willing to be unpopular for the good of our children. We are willing to risk the public scene because we know that in the end, discipline makes our children grow up to be better people.

Being a good parent is really hard, and it takes alot more effort than being a popular parent. That’s why the problem of weak parents who don’t act like parents and claim their authority has become such an epidemic.

“gran”… Thank you for explaining it so well, for me (and for all who are not parents); I think I understand this “phenomena” a little better now. But I hold… that I, too… would have been one of those unpopular parents. I would have been the mom who got the “I hate you” from time to time.

I really do appreciate good parenting, very much. Because my parents were good parents. They were always firm. They were NEVER afraid of public correction when called for. But they loved us.

Parents have a difficult vocation. Of that, there is no doubt.

 

[Tietjen]

At the Easter Vigil, there tend to be far fewer C & E Catholics.

Also far fewer smaller children… at least in my parish

 

[PaulinVA]

Well, if this reply is overly snarky, I apologize. Between the loud talking and liturgical abuses, the Easter Mass I attended wasn’t very nice.

Only the least Christian among use the “That wasn’t very Christian of you” defense, and only when they don’t have any other defense. You know, the best defense is a good offense?

The Easter and Christmas Catholics are a bane to all of us. But, really, getting them there at least twice a year is better than nothing.

As for all of us being on our best behavior? That’s hard. As one Priest said from the pulpit once - It’s nice to see people here whom we last saw for Christmas. We’ve been here every week since, and we missed you. Oh, by the way. We’ll be here next week, too.

 

[Salonika]

grandiosa:

Through the talking, and the coloring books, the loud questions and comments from the girls … I didn’t say anything … However, when the mother brought out the clickety-clackety wind up Easter Bunny toy, I got irritated… Her girls were making it hop along on the back of the pew, and trying to get my daughter to play with it too… Through the consecration and most of the later part of the Liturgy of the Eucharist, the mother kept winding up that toy and letting her daughters bang it on the pew, loudly … So I turned and said, “You know, that toy really is a little disrespectful. Could you please not wind it up again?” The look on her face told me she was majorly PO’ed.

What a pity the whole incident wasn’t captured on video. Maybe then the mother would have realised how much her attempts at ensuring her children weren’t disruptive contributed to the disruption.

grandiosa:

Another woman in the group, I think her sister or SIL, said to me, “That’s not very Christian of you!” When I protested, she told me, “Be quiet! Act like a Christian!”

I’ve have been tempted to remind her of Jesus’ cleansing of the Temple - but would have had to resist it as I would have been endorsing the SIL’s behaviour.

Would the SIL have said the same thing if she had been disturbed in this way at a concert or play?

grandiosa:

Was I a bad Christian? … does being Christian mean we just let anything and everything pass?

Don’t think so, But then some people use Biblical quotes to support the view that Christians should always turn the other cheek and take everything they get.

grandiosa:

I had trouble falling asleep last night thinking it over again and again. I am thinking about asking the priest next time I go to Confession if he thinks I need to repent of my action…?

How unfair, it should have been the adults with the toys who couldn’t sleep.

Think a word with your Priest is a good idea - not only about your actions but in a one-to-one outside the confessional about how the situation can be avoided. What is needed is for people who end up in your situation to feel they can do something about it. Even if the Priest said something about taking children out if they are disruptive, gives a mandate for others to “suggest” some children are taken out.

 

[gardenswithkids]

…So I turned and said, “You know, that toy really is a little disrespectful. Could you please not wind it up again?” The look on her face told me she was majorly PO’ed.

Another woman in the group, I think her sister or SIL, said to me, “That’s not very Christian of you!” When I protested, she told me, “Be quiet! Act like a Christian!”

I was angry and embarrassed, but also very upset. I was near tears for the rest of Mass.

Was I a bad Christian? Did I encourage someone in her excuses about why she doesn’t go to church? I tend to think she would have found them without my help… But, does being Christian mean we just let anything and everything pass? …

I’d say your first response was appropriate, but you probably should not have responded or protested when other family member accused you of “not being very Christian.” Being a Christian doesn’t mean we just let anything pass, but you had already asked respectfully that they be quiet you didn’t need to respond to their comments while at Mass (unless extending your hand with a smile to say “Peace be with you” when the appropriate time came.)

 

[CatholicSam]

I really do appreciate good parenting, very much. Because my parents were good parents. They were always firm. They were NEVER afraid of public correction when called for. But they loved us.

Parents have a difficult vocation. Of that, there is no doubt.

It doesn’t help that parents now are in fear of their children being taken away if they dare to spank in public!

And I think some parents are scared of other adults looking down on them if they discipline in public. We always discipline in public if need be, and often that results in a child crying and us leaving wherever it is (unless it’s Mass, then we just go outside till the storm has passed ). Often the adults nearby look at us like we are the most heartless parents in the world when we crack down on misbehavior. And comments like, “Oh, that poor little boy sure was upset!” in such a pitying-the-child tone of voice you wouldn’t believe. Oh well, even our little adorable cherubs need correction from time to time, and we’re the ones who have to live with them on a daily basis. The ones I really pity are the parents who only want to be popular and placate their kids by giving into their every whim. That can’t be a good home life! :nope:

 

[jmcrae]

Oh dear… we’re sharing Easter horror stories in this thread. I was going to keep this to myself, but I guess I should add mine.

I’m glad you shared!

My first Mass ever was this past Palm Sunday. (Yes, I’m a very recent addition to the Church!)

May your journey to full communion be blessed!!

Behind me was a family of about six or seven (I don’t quite recall) including three rowdy boys aged six to twelve. The youngest one squealed loudly when the oldest one took away the Nerf football he had. Their dad loudly admonished them to knock it off, his voice carrying well over the microphoned priest at the altar. In a spat of brattiness, the boy pelted his little brother with the football. Did I have eyes in the back of my head to know this? No, heard the ball go foomp against his head, which then immediately rebounded against MY head with the same foomp sound, except loudly against my own skull. In real time, the sounds were more like foomp-FOOMP Sure, I heard the younger boy crying loudly behind me, but I was dumbfounded at the situation, staring down for a moment at the ball which had landed in my lap.

I was incredulous. I’ve seen a lot of really weird things happen at funerals, including one instance of a griefstricken widow trying to leap into a casket at a wake. Or the time a kid’s cell phone went off at a VFW service to the tune of “Real N*gga Roll Call” by Lil Jon. But the Nerf football in my lap at the Easter memorial service for Jesus Christ truly took the cake. Was this really happening? Could I let this stand?

But stand I did. I don’t remember the actual act of standing up in my pew in the middle of the service. But I remember turning around and facing the family and the (now silent) boys. I’m used to seeing people with expressions of shock and horror, such as they had as the attention of roughly two thousand people was now squarely on them and me. I just smiled; it’s the same practiced smile I use in a (usually futile) attempt to calm and reassure bereaved families. My friend and RCIA sponsor who saw this up close later called it “the undertaker’s aura”. For better or for worse, it certainly seemed to stop the whole process in its tracks.

I looked down at the older boy, who was beet red from guilt and embarassment and on the virge of tears. He really looked a lot like this guy → I held the ball at eye level between us and said, “Thanks for this.” Then I took my seat, pocketing the ball.

Brilliant!!

A couple short minutes later, the family vacated the pew and left. The kid did not ask for the ball back.

I’d like to think I’m a compassionate and patient man. I’m pretty sure I was willing to put up with this noisy bunch through the whole service. But there are some things that you just don’t do a man. Pelting one with a foam rubber ball in the middle of the holiest Church service of the year is one of these things. Fortunately I was congratulated and pretty much vindicated by congregants afterward. Even the priest had a good laugh about it. “Welcome to the Church,” he said. “Hopefully we can get you to be an usher one of these days.”

The ball is now on my bookshelf next to my Bible. I intend to keep it as a reminder of the power of patience. We’ll see where it goes, but in all this has been a pretty auspicious beginning to my faith journey.

This is one of the best stories I’ve ever read!!

 

[Norseman82]

Another woman in the group, I think her sister or SIL, said to me, “That’s not very Christian of you!” When I protested, she told me, “Be quiet! Act like a Christian!”

I might have said, “OK then!” and then proceed to make a whip and quote the part where Jesus said “My Father’s house is a house of prayer”.