When I’m running errands in a nearby city, about an hour away from me, I like to carve out a little time around lunch to go to the noon Mass at one of the churches. Because my errands aren’t always the cleanest work-- like buying lumber-- I’m not always dressed the best.
One day, I went to go to church, and saw the hearse outside the front door. I looked at my clothes-- a hoodie, jeans, a t-shirt-- and thought, “Do I really want to intrude on their funeral like this?” But I decided I would go-- but I’d just sit in the back, out of the way, so that I didn’t bother anyone.
When I got inside, I saw several people I knew from my church-- an hour away. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it!” one of them said. She gave me a big hug. I had no clue who the funeral was for.
It turned out, it was a funeral for her twin grandbabies, who had died at about six months’ gestation.
I was always so glad that I didn’t let my feelings of “I’m dressed wrong” or “I don’t want to intrude” get in the way of my being there that day. It was really amazing and beautiful, hearing what those babies had accomplished-- even before they were born.
You’re not always going to be able to see the effect your presence had. But we’re all part of a bigger community. Go on, be there, and add your prayers-- for the deceased, for the family left behind, for the friends. It’s a work of mercy-- to pray for the living and the dead-- so don’t worry about other people being critical that you’re doing it wrong.