Attending Christmas Mass

Lizzie had another brilliant idea for this year's Christmas church services. She thought we should attend Mass on the 25th at 9 am instead of the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass(fat chance of that) or the later ones on Christmas Day. At 9 o'clock, people are either sleeping in or opening gifts and attendance would be sparse. It was. Chances are millions of Catholics are upset about Christmas falling on Saturday. According to the rules we're required to go again on Sunday. Ha-ha!

I do my very best to keep my focus at Mass. It's important to me that I take part in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ and prepare myself for Holy Communion. As I've gotten older I try to understand the the Gospels and the message they provide. Even so, being human, it can sometimes be difficult to maintain that focus--but I try.

We belong to a very affluent congregation. Not that we are. The close proximity of our church to our home makes it convenient to get there. Sometimes, I'm amazed at the attire people wear in God's house; men and women alike. Some men still wear their golf gear and Converse low cuts even though there's twenty inches of snow on the ground. My buddy is a Baptist and sings in their choir. He asked me to attend their Christmas program and I did. If I hadn't worn a coat and tie I'd have been the only one there who was out of uniform.

Three weeks ago, at our church, St. Brigid's, I noticed a girl, around fifteen, wearing a burgundy velvet sweater, a burgundy skirt showing her rump cheeks and black panty hose underneath. She was sporting two sets of large neck pearls and a pearl bracelet. Is this the new style? Every time she stood up she fiddled with her sweater at the waist and flung her head so the flowing blond hair swooshed around her head. Since she looked like a hooker I wondered if her parents, standing next to her, thought the same. Probably not. Maybe her mom was saying, "isn't she just so darling". Who knows?

At our Christmas service, across the aisle from me, sat a gorgeous mom, thirtyish, blond hair, legs that rose to the ceiling. What a babe! That's one of the problems with our church; too many female distractions. Anyway, I told myself, If I saw this women downtown, I'd take a Polaroid, have her autograph it then super glue it to the refrigerator. She looked that good. But, this woman had on the same exact outfit as the fifteen year old. Hooker clothes should not be church clothes.

Sometimes, I marvel at the 'who cares' attitude displayed by some parishioners at church. Nothing in this world seems to bother them.

Ten minutes into Mass one of the lector's was reading from Isaiah. The congregation was seated. Then, a couple walked down the aisle, all the way to the front of the church and sashayed into a front row pew. I'd like to think this would take a bunch of courage, or confidence, or pizzaz, or arrogance! Couldn't they wait for the reader to finish his task without bringing attention to themselves? For me, it'd be as though I was in my home, sitting on the toilet, and my neighbor walked in unannounced and started washing is hands. Being oblivious to everything around you might be a blessing, but I doubt it.

We used to belong to a church in Westerville, Ohio, one of the largest in the State.
One Sunday, sitting in front of us, sat a lady surrounded by her grown family. The priest was giving his homily; telling us how to get to heaven. Her cell phone went off------three rings. The priest and congregation all turned to give her a look. This is what we heard, "Not much, what are you doin". Self-assured or oblivious? Hmmmm!

Church is a lot different from what it was when I was growing up in the Fifties. I was an alter boy. We use kneelers in the Catholic Church. It's because, for an hour, we stand, sit, kneel, sit, stand and kneel some more. When I was a kid the kneelers were wooden and, over time, destroyed knees. They weren't made out of balsa wood, either. They were constructed of the hardest wood known to mankind with razor blades inserted that cut your kneecaps. If our rear ends came close to touching the pews the nuns would whack us across the back of the head then tell us we were going to Hell as soon as Mass was over. If I ever wanted to do a doctoral thesis a good topic would be: "Incidents Of Knee Replacements Between Baptists And Catholics".
The one thing I've noticed about the Catholic Church and it's changes over the years is it's become lenient; almost a church for sissies. There are too many different ways to slide and get by with it.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love being Catholic. Who wouldn't. The way I see it the Son of the Big Boss is our founder. That's a huge plus. There are a zillion saints who have gone before us who can offer a helping hand into heaven and all we have to do is pray to them. Hey! We have Purgatory and we can burn off some time of very intense heat if we help an old lady across the street. We've got holy water, holy candles, incense and, if you listen to my Protestant friends, secret handshakes and secret chants. Pssst! Don't tell anyone but we really don't. I'd say we've got a lot going for us and that ain't all bad.


Merry Christmas, everyone.