The inside
of a Church or a house of worship must be the most confusing place ever for a
child. There’s water that you can’t play in, books without pictures, and
mysterious doors that no one ever opens. You’re never allowed to see what’s
behind you, and the only thing you can play with is your tongue, and that’s
punishable by severe pinching.
One of the
problems is we never tell our children what services are all about. All they’re
told is to be quiet and not talk for an hour. They have no idea what we’re
doing. One day a mother dragged her 6 year old to Confession on a Saturday
afternoon. Every time she inched towards the closed closet door, the boy would
start to say something, and his mother would clap her hand over his mouth. When
it was her turn, he said “I don't have to go to the bathroom. I went before I
left home,” and bolted towards the parking lot.
Then
there’s the plight of the 4-year old who was in Church on Sunday when the wine
and the hosts were being brought up for the Offertory, his mother leaned over
and told him that he was not old enough to comprehend the mystery of
transubstantiation, and that he was too young to receive Communion. Right away, the ushers were taking up the collection, and as the collection
plate stopped dead in front of him, his mother leaned over and tried to coax
the nickel out of his clenched fist. He held firm and shouted, “If I can’t eat,
I won’t pay !”
Adults
become different people in Church. A few years ago a young boy served his first
Mass as an altar-boy. He knew he was supposed to ring the bell at a certain
time in the Mass, but he wasn’t sure when, so he rang them every time he passed
them. The Priest told his parents afterwards, “I felt like serving Mass with
Quasimodo.“ One other boy was so anxious to ring the bells that he grabbed them
as soon as the Mass started and would not let go of them, as he was so nervous
that another server would ring them instead.
Church for
a child is a place where they sing songs one never hears on the radio, where
the Priests wear vestments one never finds in the Sears or Macy’s catalogue,
and where you have to wait half an hour to shake hands with the people next to
you. Church is lips that sing “Love the little children” at the same time eyes
are saying, “You will never have another Oreo cookie for as long as you live.”
Church is where everyone talks about joy and happiness, but when someone rings
the bells at the wrong time, we’re afraid to laugh. Why ? And if you think the
Crying Room is the best solution, don’t bet on it. At least in my chapel here
at Hilltop Gardens, the older people insist on going in there, while I try to
convince them it’s for babies and their mothers with carriages and push-chairs,
which take a lot of space. When the adults insist on going in there, I tell
them “Then I have to give you a bottle, a rattle and a pacifier if you insist on
staying in there!”
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