Category: Church

Late for Mass: Have I Missed the Boat?

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get me to the church on time

Tomorrow will be the last day for 5+ weeks that I can get to daily Mass on time.

That’s because The Kid will be attending theater camp, which begins at 9 AM (the same time as Mass), 3 towns away.

Last summer I tried going to Mass at one of the 2 parishes close to the camp, but I was late getting there, and I didn’t feel comfortable walking into an unfamiliar church after Mass had begun.

Punctuality is a thing with me. I hate to be late. I hate when others are late. And now I have to choose between being late to Mass or not being there at all. I hate that idea even more.

So today I asked Father what he thought about me slipping into Mass late. Yes, I would be later, even, than if I attended Mass at one of those other churches, but I’d be at my “home base” and I felt better about approaching the issue this way.

Father assured me that because I wasn’t going to be late because I was too busy hitting the snooze alarm, but rather because I was doing something my child needs me to do for him, I’d be OK.

I will make a special effort to read the daily Mass readings ahead of time, because I’ll probably miss some of them. Fortunately I can go to CatholicMom.com each morning for the Daily Gospel Reflection and catch the readings there.

And if I get The Kid to camp a bit early, I can send him in as soon as the adults arrive. That will get me on my way a little earlier.

Finally, I’ll slide into a pew in the way back, rather than my usual spot nearer the front, so I won’t be as much of a distraction.

I’m thankful for the reassurance I got this morning about my plan to try getting to Mass after the camp dropoff each day. And that reassurance I got today will help me remember not to judge others who don’t arrive on time. Maybe they’re taking care of a family member’s needs too.

I guess the only thing I still need to know is: who’s the patron saint against getting speeding tickets? I’ll have to put him on speed-dial!

A Franciscan Farewell

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1024px-Kruis_san_damiano
San Damiano Cross [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
At the beginning of the year we received a letter from our pastor and one from our bishop. The Conventual Franciscan friars, who have served our parish since 1936, are turning the administration of the parish over to the diocese. There just aren’t enough friars to go around anymore, though we have been blessed to have two serving in our parish.

Having always worshipped in parishes staffed by religious priests (in all cases but one, Franciscan friars) rather than diocesan priests, I’m used to priests coming and going every few years.

But last night, at the last Sunday (OK, Saturday night) Mass our pastor would be celebrating with us, I did something I’ve never done before: I wept over the departure of these priests.

Let me be right up front and say that this is not because I don’t trust our bishop to send us a good diocesan priest to serve our parish, because I do. In fact, the priest who is coming here is someone whose homilies I’ve been following online for about a decade now.

But this departure represents something different.

First of all, it’s the loss of the Franciscan friars’ presence in our parish. That’s what drew us to this parish in the first place, in late 1991 when we were “church shopping” (yes, I admit it) after moving to this area. The friars made us feel at home. Franciscan hospitality is unlike any other.

But the two priests who have served here this year, who in some ways could not be any more different from each other, have touched my heart and it will be hard to see them go.

Father Brennan-Joseph, the pastor, inspires. A gifted speaker, he uses humor, personal examples and a fire born of true devotion to bring home the points he makes in his homilies. In addition, he is generous with gratitude and compliments for those who help at Mass in any way.

Father Matthew instructs and challenges. His knowledge of Franciscan history has been a true gift to the Secular Franciscans. He has urged us to keep the Franciscan spirit alive in this parish. And he tells it like it is, which (he admits) puts some people off, but which I find refreshing and necessary. Father Matthew also frequently speaks about prayer during his homilies, and you don’t hear many priests doing that.

Both priests live their calling. They pray with us and for us and they let us know this. They stay after daily Mass on novena days (Monday, the Blessed Mother; Tuesday, St. Anthony; Wednesday, St. Joseph; and Fridays in June, the Sacred Heart). They pray in the Adoration Chapel, with regular hours and drop-in visits. It is a true witness to parishioners to see their priests praying in the Adoration Chapel. They believe; they are devoted; it shows. And it edifies us.

When these two friars arrived in our parish, they knew they’d be here temporarily. But they didn’t just “phone it in,” do Masses, weddings, sick visits and funerals and call it a day. They gave everything they had. They became part of the community. They resurrected a dying altar-server ministry, started a Frassati Society for young adults, and showed up at each and every parish function, staying until the last piece of cake was served.

I am grateful for their service to this parish, for the example they set, for the inspiration and challenges they have given us. May God bless them in their ministry to their future parishes (one in New York state, one in England). And may God help our parish in this time of transition. May we show true Franciscan hospitality to our new pastor.

#WorthRevisit: Old Neighborhood

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I’m breaking the rules for this week’s Worth Revisiting Wednesday (hosted at Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb.) You’re supposed to find an old blog and reblog it.

But yesterday I attended my great-uncle’s funeral, in a day that was all about revisiting.

On June 9, 1979, I graduated from St. Bonaventure School, part of the 100th 8th-grade class. I’ve been back in that church only a handful of times since I moved away from that area as a young adult. It’s almost always been for funerals. Yesterday, on my graduation anniversary, I was back for another funeral.

Nannys HouseI arrived early today, because I live 100 miles away from St. Bon’s and I didn’t want to be late–you never know what the traffic on the NJ Turnpike is going to be like. On my way to the church I took a 3-block detour so I could see my grandmother’s old house. It’s changed in the past 13 years. But I have many great memories of time spent there. Those won’t change, no matter what the new owners do to the door and the siding and the front porch.

My memories of St. Bon’s Church are all tied up with my grandmother. So, since I was early, I revisited the attached Shrine of St. Anthony. Nanny was a regular visitor to that shrine, and I honestly didn’t realize that all churches didn’t have those. (Then again, I was probably in 8th grade before I learned that not all priests wore brown habits.)

I couldn’t take photos in church because I wasn’t alone in there, but I did grab a few shots of the shrine (inside and out).

St Anthony Collage

This wasn’t my old neighborhood but I spent a lot of time there. Quality time. It was good to go back, even for only a 2-hour visit.

 

Why I Remain Catholic

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I’m responding to a question posted by Elizabeth Scalia at Patheos: Why do you remain Catholic?

And all I can think of is: how can I not?

Alleluia

I feel like being a Catholic is in my DNA.

I’m not a convert, and I’ve heard people say that cradle Catholics (like me) never made that conscious choice that a convert might have made.

But I beg to differ.

I make that choice every single Sunday when I go to Mass.

I make that choice every single time I receive the Eucharist: the Body, Blood, soul and divinity of Jesus.

I make that choice when I pray the Liturgy of the Hours, when I attend gatherings of the Secular Franciscans, when I play music and sing at Mass, when I pray for someone in need.

Being a Catholic–and, even more than that, being a Catholic and a Franciscan–is the air I breathe. It’s a part of me that I cannot separate out.

I can’t point to some earth-shattering moment when I knew this was the right thing for me.

It just is.

I’ve visited other churches, for funerals or weddings–and something is missing. That something, the Real Presence, is what makes Catholicism stand apart.

I didn’t make one conscious choice–but there have been thousands of little choices, every week, every day, that keep me in my Church. And I am thankful for the grace that helps me to make those little choices.

Image by Barb Szyszkiewicz, OFS: Empty Tomb at St. Casimir Church, Riverside, NJ (Easter 2007). All rights reserved. 

It’s the Same Jesus

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There are different kinds of spiritual gifts but the same Spirit;there are different forms of service but the same Lord; there are different workings but the same God who produces all of them in everyone. (I Corinthians 12:4-6 via USCCB)

Nearly 7 years ago, our small parish merged with a larger one in the same zip code. The two parishes became one. There are still two churches (which one former pastor referred to as “worship sites,” and I’m thankful that term never really caught on). The office is at one church, and the priests live in the friary at the other one.

A lot of work has been done to help the people from the two parishes worship, work and enjoy life together as one. All in all, I thought we were doing pretty well.

Until this morning.

For nearly 7 years, the daily Masses had been held at the smaller of the two churches, which makes sense from the practical perspective of having to heat or cool a larger building to house at most 50 people for 45 minutes a day. I guess there has been some behind-the-scenes complaining, because two weeks ago it was announced that three days a week, daily Mass would be held at the larger church.

They do have a chapel, and some work was done to spiff it up so that it would be ready for daily Mass.

I liked the idea in some ways, because I can walk to the larger church. Walking is good. Exercise is good. I am Walking With Mary This May as part of author Denise Bossert’s event celebrating the Visitation, so this walk also helps me reach my mileage goal.

So I walked to Mass this morning and found lots of cars in the parking lot and a full chapel, 10 minutes before Mass. The next 10 minutes were spent in a “bucket brigade” of sorts, but with chairs the maintenance man was grabbing from the choir area of the church to create a new front row of chairs in the chapel. As it was, the 90-year-old altar server didn’t have a chair, and he was sort of sitting on the radiator, and he and I played this little game of “chicken” for a bit. I didn’t want him to stand because the guy is 90 and, well, he doesn’t look too healthy. He didn’t want me to stand because he is a gentleman. Finally I let him win.

When Mass was over, I heard many people saying to Father, “Thank you for bringing Mass back here.”

Which is fine.

But there were quite a few people at Mass today who don’t come to daily Mass when it’s at the other church. I don’t know everyone’s name at Mass, but you come to recognize faces and, of course, everyone has their “spot.”

So there were people who came today but who don’t come when Mass is in the other church, two and a half miles away.

OK, I thought. Maybe they walked here, like me.

But I was the only one who left the parking lot on foot.

Meanwhile, there were those three or four people who walk to Mass every day when it’s at the other church. I suspect that some of them don’t drive at all. And now they’re not going to get there.

If you’re driving anyway, why is it such a big deal to drive to the other church? It’s not far away. It’s only 5 more minutes in the car. From my house, I can drive to the small church faster than I can walk to the big church–even if I get stuck at both traffic lights. (And I walked that mile in 12 minutes today).

No matter which church Mass is in, it’s the same Mass. It’s the same Gospel. It’s the same prayers. It’s the same Jesus. It’s the same Eucharist.

That quote from Corinthians, up at the top? May I continue it? “There are different buildings, but the same worship.”

It shouldn’t be all about the territory.

If it is, we’re doing it wrong.

Welcome to Sing

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I’ve been a musician and singer in church since I was 15. Suffice to say that I’ve been at it for more than 2/3 of my life, even without counting the part where I was a cantor for the responsorial psalm and prayer of the faithful in middle school.

The very first church where I participated as a music minister: St. Bonaventure in Paterson, NJ.
The very first church where I participated as a music minister: St. Bonaventure in Paterson, NJ.

I’ve never been afraid to lift up my voice and sing in church. Now, I’m by no means a solo-quality singer, but I’m happy to blend in with a group (and ecstatic if I get to sing the harmony part.) So even if I’m in the pew instead of in the choir or ensemble, I’m going to sing.

It’s been my pleasure and privilege, for thirty-mumble years, to sing and play in quite a number of folk groups, choirs and ensembles. I’ve seen (and heard) the good, the bad, and the ugly–both while playing and singing and while sitting as part of the assembly.

Jane the Actuary at Patheos Catholic wonders how to get people in the assembly to participate by singing. It’s simple, really. In my experience, people will sing unless they are discouraged from doing so.

How can choirs and musicians show that they don’t want the assembly to sing?

  • Play the song in a key that’s out of reach for all except the deepest bass or highest soprano
  • Don’t announce the number of the song in the hymnal
  • Announce the number of the song, but tell the congregation that they’re invited to sing during the refrain only
  • Choose music that is not in the hymnal
  • Sing the hymn in a language other than what’s in the hymnal or spoken in the community (Latin being the exception here)
  • Use a different arrangement of a familiar hymn
  • Sing familiar hymns whose words have been changed by politically-correct hymnal publishers
  • Sing the hymn in madrigal style so that the assembly can’t find the melody
  • Don’t provide a hymnal or worship aid, or leave all the hymnals stacked on the outer edges of 12-seat pews, so that people who forget to grab one on their way to sit down never get one later
  • Sing with so much technical perfection that you intimidate everyone in the pews

I have seen all of these happen in my long tenure as a musician. And there’s no excuse for any of them.

Finally, this is the story of the Music Director Who Caused a Mutiny. During my junior year in college, the music department hired a graduate student to direct the folk group. The position was usually a volunteer one, held by an undergrad music student in the folk group–but they all graduated. We learned a lot of new music that year, which is always good, but most of it wasn’t in the hymnal, which is usually bad. When we spoke up to the director about the probability that people in the pews would be discouraged from singing, her response was, “You’re performing for God.”

Well, no. We were not performing for God. We weren’t performing for Father, either, nor for the congregation. We were there to lead people in sung prayer, not to put on a show for anyone (even God.)

Our director only showed up at one of the two Masses the folk group played. My friends and I took turns leading the music at the other Mass, and if music that wasn’t in the hymnal was chosen, we’d replace it during the Mass when we were on our own.

When our parish merged with a neighboring one in 2008, we were told that people at the other church didn’t sing. Indeed, many of them expressed surprise at the level of participation in our original parish. But guess what? It’s gotten better! With encouragement, people will sing. Even if they’re Catholic.

Image source: St. Bonaventure Parish Facebook page

7QT: What Father H Taught Me

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Joining in the 7 Quick Takes fun at ConversionDiary.com!

Father HI learned yesterday that our associate pastor is retiring at the end of the summer. He has been serving our parish for 11 years. I’ve been there for over 8 of those years, and in that time I have learned a lot–thanks to him. Here are some highlights:

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At every baptism and wedding, Father H. reminds the congregation that these sacraments are not private family moments but joyful occasions for the whole parish and the whole Church. And he exhorts the assembly to offer not only prayer support but the support of a true community to these families, because these sacraments are not only for a moment, but the beginning of a lifetime.

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On “Fear of the Lord:”

God is not someone we are to be terrified of, like something in a horror movie. That’s not what fear of the Lord is all about.  We can practice growing in the virtue of fear of the Lord by wondering at the mystery of God and all that He created. He said that the more you grow in this virtue, the more awesome you understand God to be.

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One Sunday, for the Responsorial Psalm, we sang:  “I will praise your name, my king and my God.”

When the psalm concluded, the silence was broken not by the lector jumping the gun on the second reading, but by a toddler all the way on the other side of the church:  “YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!”

Everyone chuckled, of course:  how cute!

Father looked at everyone, smiled, and said, “Amen!”

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Father celebrated Mass the Sunday Little Brother made his altar-serving debut:

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That was July of 2011.

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On Advent:

Every Advent, Father begins by asking us to contrast all the decorated, brightly-lit houses we’d passed on the way to church with the minimal decoration (Advent wreath and Jesse tree) in church. He makes a good point–is not going to rage against those who get into the Christmas hype early, because so much of our economy and so many people’s livelihoods depend on that. BUT he encourages us to remember the reason for THIS season.

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On servanthood:

Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. What a model of graciousness and generosity! Not even the lowest slave or household servant would be expected to do such a thing, Father H. explained to us. In fact, he said, it was scandalous that Jesus would have dressed as a slave and done a thing like this.

Father is a brilliant scholar who frequently shares his vast historical and cultural knowledge about Jesus’ world. His other specialty is women saints of the past 3 centuries, particularly those from North America.

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And the most important thing I have learned from Father–something that will stick with me always:  Father very deliberately tries to slow down the Lord’s Prayer. It’s not because he is being ornery. It’s because he wants everyone to take the time to listen to each and every word that we are praying. Father has said on more than one occasion that we must not race through the Lord’s Prayer–we must savor every word, as that is the ONLY prayer that Jesus taught us to pray.

I am grateful to Father for his service, his example and all that he has taught over the years.

Art and Irreverence

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Last summer the Four Evangelists came to church.

evangelists behind altar
Last summer’s Evangelists, AKA the Traveling Willburys

They were set up behind the altar where they distracted me at each and every Mass. There they were, looking over Father’s shoulder as he recited the prayers. If I didn’t keep my eyes closed, I’d find my gaze wandering over to see if I could find the guy on the left’s other hand. The Evangelists were larger than life, but oddly proportioned, with any visible hands flat and deformed and smaller than mine.

And they weren’t in any kind of order, either, as we found out when the pastor conducted a little Who’s Who tour during the homily one day. Not alphabetical, not chronological, and not the order in which the Gospels appear in the Bible.

We musicians, of course, dubbed them “John, Paul, George and Ringo.” After about two months, they disappeared, but we found them again at the other church within our parish. That’s when they got a new name:  the Traveling Willburys.

I’m pretty sure that the purpose of art in a church isn’t to inspire the assembly to new heights of snark. It’s also not there to distract from worship. It should lead the mind to God. It should inspire not sarcasm but devotion.

Gary ColemanI’d forgotten about this particular venture in ecclesial decor until today, when a new set of Evangelists had taken their places behind the altar. These were even larger, and from where I sat in the choir area, it seemed that the one on the far right was giving the musicians the side-eye.

My teenage neighbor told me after Mass that she thought they looked creepy. For the moment, I’ve dubbed them the Suspicious Evangelists.

(That would be a pretty good band name, come to think of it.)

I’m guessing that the Traveling Willburys have taken up residence in the other church, and now that we have two complete sets (collect ’em all!) we’ll all get to be distracted by the various Evangelists until the end of Ordinary Time.

If I had my druthers, the only things behind the altar would be the crucifix and the tabernacle. There’s got to be a spot somewhere else in the church where the Evangelists could go, somewhere that can’t be seen from the pews during Mass.

Lead us not into distraction, Lord, and deliver us from creepy Evangelists.

Lawn Chair Catechism Ch. 6

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lawn chair catechism 2014 header

Join the Lawn Chair Catechism discussion at CatholicMom.com every Wednesday this summer. well built faith lawn chair catechismWe’re reading A Well-Built Faith by Joe Paprocki, but you can participate even if you haven’t read the book. Check out the free Leader’s Guide, which covers the main points of the book.

Discussion Questions from the Leader’s Guide:

  • What does it mean to say that spirituality is not just a slice of the pie that represents our life, but is the whole pie?
  • What’s the difference between belonging to the Church and being Church?
  • What does the concept of stewardship have to do with spirituality and Church?
  • What does it mean to say that the Church is one, holy, catholic, and apostolic?
  • Why do Catholics place such great emphasis on Mary and the saints? Explain our understanding of the Communion of Saints.
  • How would you summarize the Catholic understanding of the afterlife?

Joe Paprocki starts off strong on page 37 with the statement that “the Church is not a club.” This is a concept that Father H at my parish drives home very regularly. At every baptism and wedding, he reminds the congregation that these sacraments are not private family moments but joyful occasions for the whole parish and the whole Church. And he exhorts the assembly to offer not only prayer support but the support of a true community to these families, because these sacraments are not only for a moment, but the beginning of a lifetime.

This is a concept that, I feel, is lost in a world where the Catholic culture is not as strong as it was when my parents were young. And I think that Father H is telling all of us that we need to be Church, not just “belong” to the parish and show up when we feel like it.

My parish, right now, is engaged in a community-building effort that they’ve described in our church bulletin:

Many times we ask ourselves, what more can we do as  individuals and as members of a Church family to reach out to others in our parish community. We would like to create a caring community where fellow parishioners know the names of their neighbors and where the church members come forward in times of difficulty and joy.

This is sorely needed, and I’d venture to say that my parish isn’t the only one that needs an effort like this.

The folk group I’ve belonged to since 2006 is that community for me. We’ve celebrated births, baptisms, First Communions, graduations and marriages together. We’ve rejoiced together at someone’s good news, prayed for each other frequently, delivered dinners when someone is ill, laughed together, and even provided tech support. I am so grateful to call these fellow musicians my friends, and I know I can call upon them for whatever’s needed–and they can call upon me. But we are united by more than friendship and the common bond of music. We are united by faith. We are Church for each other.

I used to dislike the phrase “being Church” because I felt it was just more spiritual jargon with nothing behind it. That’s before I had an actual experience of what it means to be Church.

What’s your take on this week’s chapter?

Lawn Chair Catechism Ch. 5

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lawn chair catechism 2014 header

Join the Lawn Chair Catechism discussion at CatholicMom.com every Wednesday this summer. well built faith lawn chair catechismWe’re reading A Well-Built Faith by Joe Paprocki, but you can participate even if you haven’t read the book. Check out the free Leader’s Guide, which covers the main points of the book.

These sentences from Chapter 5 really struck me:

Salvation in Jesus is not a guarantee–it is a gift. The only way to embrace salvation is to embrace the suffering, death, and resurrection of Jesus. This means that we constantly strive to die to sin and live as a new creation, performing good works in response to this great gift. (p. 36)

Salvation is not only a gift. It is a gift that came at a great price:  the Passion and Death of Jesus. We can honor the gift of our salvation by trusting God, by praying, by performing works of mercy even when they cost us greatly. Especially when they cost us greatly.

What’s your take on this week’s chapter?