Saint Mary of the Immaculate Conception Roman Catholic Church

Dear Good People of Saint Mary,

I have lately found myself in the middle of a conundrum. It is a good word, actually, it is defined as “a confusing and difficult problem or question.” It has to do with how we address the reality of noise as well as noisy children at Mass.

It is noticeable, how much louder we have become at Mass. For many this is distressing, especially the older members of the parish who grew up with the  understanding that the Lord’s house was a place of reverence and prayer. Only the lightest whispers were ever allowed, and then only if somebody was in danger of death. This was also the way I was raised. There was no such thing as a mobile phone, so anything having to do with beeping, chirping or rock-and roll sounds coming from pocketed devices wasn’t part of the picture. The only things we could bring to church as children were religious picture books, I guess. Actually, I don’t think my parents even brought us to church until we were old enough to know it was a special place.

Today’s world is a confusing and difficult place, and I guess the church isn’t excluded, as much as we would like it to be a refuge from all that. At Saint Mary we have tried several things, and I write about it a couple of times a year in the bulletin. Here I’m not talking about the normal level of sound that just comes with a roomful of people. There are some Sundays that there is a hum of conversation during Holy Communion audible over the singing!

Apparently some have now said that Saint Mary is unwelcoming to families. By many others, I’m criticized for not saying enough about it. I understand the particular challenges parents have, and have repeatedly said nothing about it because I don’t want to alienate anyone. Now it seems that since I have stayed silent about it some parishioners have decided they can help me out by shaming parents as they leave Mass for not being more in control of their children, leaving notes on their cars, letting them know they have failed, etc.

So I have a few observations and suggestions, this is about the best I can offer.

1. It is too loud in church, it seems to be getting louder. Lately when I have presided at Mass, more Masses than not, I have had to stop momentarily, realizing that I’m not even thinking about the prayers. The priest, if anybody, has to be thinking about the prayers, right? Instead, I find myself wondering why nobody is doing anything about the distraction. Then I start thinking about how everyone else in the church must not be praying either. Can it be a Mass if nobody is praying? All these things are going through my head and I’m just still saying the words. I have to stop for a moment, reset my own thoughts, refocus, and hope that everyone else can, too. It is not an effort to shame anyone, I am just trying to focus. Especially sometimes during a homily. It’s like the slate wipes clean and I have to figure out where I was.

2. In charity, we have to find ways to encourage one another with kindness, and behave appropriately. Parents, please realize that you are surrounded by people, like you, who are trying to pray. People who are trying to pray, be patient. Refocus. Mostly it is just a momentary thing. Provide encouragement. If you are accusing or reprimanding anyone after Mass, stop it, particularly if you think it is somehow helpful.

3. For those who find themselves going regularly to the same Masses, get to know the people who are around you. A simple encounter and a little conversation can bridge the divide in a challenging moment. Introduce yourselves to families with small children, and as you get to know one another maybe parents will allow you to help them in difficult moments. Maybe even a friendship can develop. Above all, approach one another with reverence.

4. Finally, and I know I’ve said this so many times before, do not use the cry room unless your child is crying. It is not a play area. It is not a room provided for you to get away from the crowd. If nobody is crying, it should be completely empty. It is not general seating for overflow crowds. In this way there is a place where crying people (I guess this would include adults who are crying, too) can go, get past it, and return to the assembly where they belong, with us.

Hope this helps a little, I leave it to you.

God bless you.

Dear Good People of Saint Mary,

Happy Ascension Thursday Sunday! Every year we find ourselves asked about this confusing combination of feasts, just when you think everyone has it figured out. So, for those who asked again this year, here is the explanation.

Although Ascension Thursday has traditionally been celebrated 40 days after the Resurrection of Jesus and nine days before Pentecost (hence, the novena), Ascension Thursday had become one of the least-attended holy days of obligation of the whole year. Not sure why—maybe following all the big feasts of Easter, perhaps people are starting to get busy on spring weekends. At any rate, a local calendar of holy days is determined by the local conference of bishops (for us, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops), and the Church is not allowed to impose an “arbitrary” law that will cause so many of the faithful to sin gravely. The Conference transferred the obligation to the nearest Sunday, therefore, when the observance now is celebrated by a majority of dioceses in the United States.

The Diocese of Arlington has done this for ten years, now. But one of the things that I’ve struggled with is the fact that, with the readings for the Ascension of the Lord now read on what was the Seventh Sunday of Easter, those Seventh Sunday readings will never be read again. For me, who have dedicated so much of my life to Christian Unity, to lose the text of John 17:20-27 is nothing short of tragic in the life of the Church. For that reason, last weekend, we used the option of including those readings instead of those for the Sixth Sunday.

I was surprised to hear the number of people who came up to me after Mass and said that they had never heard that prayer before.

You see, the Gospel of John relates a very long prayer (the so-called “high-priestly prayer” of Jesus) in the time following the Last Supper and the institution of Eucharist. In the characteristic style of Saint John, it tends to go on for a while, repeating a lot, with language that seems to intertwine. Many find it difficult to read. If you imagine the anguish of Jesus in the garden, the anticipation of coming horror, you can almost read it as a direct narrative of what might have been the words that John heard Jesus, troubled, praying from nearby. Maybe John wasn’t actually the one sleeping at this moment after all. His words come in short bursts; imagine them with great pauses, anxious breathing, periods of silence waiting for a response from the Father.

Jesus picks this moment, after Eucharist and before Calvary and the Empty Tomb, to pray for us and the Unity that he wills for us. A unity that he begs the Father for, and Jesus knows how to pray and his will is perfectly aligned with the Father. He prays that we might be one:

“I pray not only for them (his Apostles), butalso for those who will believe in me through their word (that’s us), so that they may all be one, as you, Father, are in me and I in you, that they also may be in us, that the world may believe that you sent me.

“And I have given them the glory you gave me, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be brought to perfection as one, that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me.

“Father, they are your gift to me. I wish that where I am they also may be with me, that they may see my glory that you gave me, because you loved me before the foundation of the world.  Righteous Father, the world also does not know you, but I know you, and they know that you sent me.

“I made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you loved me may be in them and I in them.”

Imagine a reading this beautiful that people might have never heard before. I hope that if this the first time you hear it, you can recognize the love and longing in the voice of Jesus as he prays for you, for us, on that last night he was on this earth, living in the midst of the Paschal Mystery, between Table and Cross. That his prayer is that we might be One, a prayer that must certainly be possible through the Spirit of him and the Father. For so many of us, it is exactly this text that has gotten us so involved in the ecumenical movement. It must be heard. Like the Our  Father, maybe we should memorize this one and pray it everyday!

God bless you.