MEMO TO CATHOLICS IN THE PEWS

LINK to online version

When I was first asked to be a guest columnist for this publication, the request was for a column addressing Catholic issues with leeway to wander into other topics. In hindsight I’ve probably written more about other topics than Catholic issues, but with this column I’m returning to my “roots.”

There is much that could be said about the current goings-on within the Catholic Church: the clergy sex abuse scandal, the U.S. bishops skirmish with the new president, the pope’s health. Instead, I’m going to share a few thoughts about us regular Catholics in the pews.

Let’s start with dressing better. This is weird coming from a guy who used to lead the "Folk-Mass" in his teens and twenties dressed in jeans and Birkenstocks, but, at least for Sunday Mass, I have now made an effort to put on what was once called “our Sunday best.” I mean, come on, some of us dress nicer to go to the movies than we do to go to Mass. Sure, it would help to have some encouragement from the pulpit, but in the meantime, we can do this ourselves.

Next, we might try spending some old-fashioned “thanksgiving” time after Mass instead of erupting into a meet and greet.

I was brought up to believe that Jesus Christ, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, in the consecrated bread I just received at Holy Communion, is uniquely present in me “and endures as long as the Eucharistic species subsist" (CCC 1377), or in other words, until the “species” (consecrated bread and/or wine) is fully digested - about 15 minutes.

In the “old days” this 15 minutes formed the basis for “prayers after communion.” I mean think of it, we Catholics believe that Jesus Christ, who suffered, died, rose again, and is seated at the right hand of the Father, is uniquely and substantially present in our very bodies for an ultra-sacred 15 minutes. Maybe we should visit with Him for a bit before the others.

Related to this, when we visit after Mass - which is a good thing, let’s take it outside. Our Catholic church buildings are unique. They are not meeting places - as are non-Catholic houses of worship. It’s why our parents and the nuns of yesteryear taught us to be quiet in church, even if it was empty.

And that’s because it’s never empty. Unless for an exceptional reason the Eucharist has been removed from the tabernacle - Jesus Christ, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, is always present. And it’s His house, not ours. So “Shhhhhhh” - as Sister would say.

Speaking of “Shhhhh” - take noisy children outside. I know, I know. Those are fighting words. But before you trash this column, know that I am a father of eleven children, two of whom are special needs, and all of whom we brought to Mass every Sunday from about the first Sunday after they left the womb.

We had a system. Our family sat near the rear entrance of the church or chapel, and while Mom usually held the infant, I held the next eldest - usually a two year old and the child most likely to make noise. As soon as the child got loud enough to distract others, I took the child outside.

Occasionally I’d end up spending the whole Mass outside, but usually the child would calm down enough to return to Mass without incident. I’d say that about age three, each child got the idea and was rarely a problem after that.

Also, we didn’t bring toys, books, games, gadgets, or munchies to occupy the children. They simply intuited through our behavior that there was something special about attending Mass and that it was a time for quiet and reverence.

P.S. It helped that we would attend Masses that were quiet and reverent. I think “solemn” is the word. Our kids, like most kids, responded more to the environment than to any of our “shush-ing.”

One of our children with disabilities, a son, and the tenth of our eleven children, was particularly rambunctious. I spent a lot of time outside with him in his first couple of years. Eventually he figured it out and would just sleep through the Mass.

The only problem was that he was born with a nasal issue and his snoring echoed through the whole church. We learned that he didn’t snore if he slept sitting up. So we propped him up in the pew and all was well.

I miss those days.

Tim Rohr has resided in Guam since 1987. He has raised a family of 11 children, owned several businesses, and is active in local issues via his blog, JungleWatch.info, letters to local publications, and occasional public appearances. He may be contacted at timrohr.guam@gmail.com