Sunday Mass…
And maybe why some guys just hate going.
I wasn’t able to get to Mass for Candlemas so I attended the vigil Mass for Sunday last evening. It was a flippin’ zoo! The past couple of weeks it has been like that, despite the fact the pastor is actually pretty ‘orthodox’ - he follows the rubrics and all of that.
Last evening within Mass, there were three infant baptisms, with the entire church called around the hot-tub baptismal pool after the readings and father’s homily. (How is this not interrupting Mass? Can’t Sunday Mass be without interruption? Oh I know - we do it at the the Easter Vigil, and every Sunday we commemorate the Resurrection - I know it is supposed to fit- but c’mon… can’t it be done well? Make it flow at least.)
After the prayer of the faithful, the finance person for the parish gets in his speech. (Applause.) Then the collection gets going, with the hideous piano-bar background music, and the cantor whose voice emanates from her throat, to the point she sounds as if she is gargling, singing those ole tyme religion schmalzie hymns. Everything is too effing protestant!
Did I mention the youth group in front of me text messaging each other through out Mass? Crap! I forgot to mention the intro before Mass of all the out-of-towners. “And where’s this lil’ lady from?” She answers. He responds with the accent thing, “Oooh! North Dakota! Fargo I s’pose, huh?!” (Laughter. Applause.) Then before the final blessing, everyone with something significant going on this week must stand up for all of us to raise our hands in blessing over these special people. (Applause.) A big good bye to the piano player - she’s moving on someplace… (More applause.) Final blessing. Final hymn. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
This isn’t what Mass, praise and worship is supposed to be about, is it? Aren’t the words of dismissal, “The Mass has ended, now go in peace” supposed to mean that? I left pretty agitated.
I’m not really complaining - I’m just telling the truth - THIS IS NOT THE MASS! The Catholic Church was once the epitome of taste and dignity, now, in many American Catholic parishes, it is the epitome of tacky, tasteless, worse than protestant schmalz.
While I’m on the subject, many Sunday Masses are the equivalent of a child’s recital or school play, which parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts, seem to enjoy attending because their kids are singing in the choir or serving the Mass, or carrying up the gifts - or involved in some kind of performance art, and everyone else has to sit through the ordeal with a frozen smile.
Please! Kill me now!
(I know - if I don’t like it, I can drive 20+ miles for a trad Mass in the middle of the day on Sunday.)
