Going to Mass is not the straight forward, spiritual experience you would expect. Although there were distractions back in the olden days, they certainly seem more prevalent now. When they say it is the ‘Mass of the People’, I have to agree as God seems to get lost in the shuffle. I have been trying to approach Mass with my blinders on but sometimes the interesting moments within the church, clamor for attention.
I have observed that people prefer to sit in their own pews. At daily Masses, this is even more possible as there are fewer people. Everyone has their own seat and seem to be careful to leave lots of space between them and the next person. These preferences or inhibitions are forgotten, however, once the Our Father is recited. Everyone starts stretching and angling to find a hand to hold. One watches in amazement as people reach across vacant pews to reach others, some are twisted in order to accommodate this rite and others are even facing the side or almost the back of the church just to insure they are able to hold hands. Being in the midst of the tangle doesn’t show up the magnitude of this Holy Anaconda. Seeing this phenomenon from the back of the church brings to mind some archaic ritual. The Holy See has stated that this gesture during Mass “is not in the rubrics.” (Notitiae 11 [1975] 226, DOL 1502 n. R29)
Since holding hands during the Our Father is not in the rubrics, no one can be required to do so during the Our Father. If you are not on your toes, you can end up being pummeled and pushed from your prayers by a ardent hand-holder. So, do you give in to the moment or pray that God gives you an extra grace for coping in spite of it all?
Once the terrors of the Holy Anaconda are past, you still can’t breathe easy. The Migration begins! Personally, I think a gesture of kindness towards our fellow worshipers is wonderful. Offering your hand in friendship before you offer yourself up to God’s grace and forgiveness on the altar is a good prelude. Unfortunately, people who talked together coming into Mass, who will probably see each other after Mass and who may be breakfasting with each other after Mass, want to offer the Sign of Peace as far and wide as possible. Pews empty, as people scatter to find the friends they had conversed with barely thirty minutes before. Ranks break and God resides in lonely splendor on the altar. You can say that we are seeing God in each other. I think we should concentrate more on that outside of Mass. Some people migrate so far from their home pew, they are rambling back halfway through the Lamb of God. That doesn’t stop them from greeting people as they return, ignoring the Lamb of God.
Extraordinary Ministers are supposed to be a help when there is absolutely no ordained person present or available for whatever logical reason. In spite of Vatican instructions, we are overrun with Extraordinary Ministers. When they do serve, they are supposed to present an air of dignity and piety as befits their part in the liturgy. I balked at receiving ashes on Ash Wednesday from a Extraordinary Minister, wearing slacks, sweatshirt and a giggling smile. Somehow the words she was reciting, “thou are dust and unto dust thou shall return” lost something when she grinned throughout her duty and even laughed and joked with people she knew.
And, finally, I find it difficult to train my children to show respect in church when grown ups saunter into Mass and plunk into a pew without a genuflection or a prayer before Mass. Again, the people performing the important jobs during Mass, such as lectors, are leading others astray when they lead them away from God’s presence. A perfunctory head bow isn’t quite the same as a genuflection. “No one who enters a church should fail to adore the Blessed Sacrament either by visiting the Blessed Sacrament chapel or at least by genuflecting. Similarly, those who pass before the Blessed Sacrament genuflect, except when they are walking in procession. [CB 71].
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