(If God used Balaam’s donkey to get that prophet’s attention, I guess he can use me to get yours. May these periodic Monday Musings generate fruitful discussion and faithful change.)
It happened again! I wanted to scream! I wanted to cry!
We arrived early to the only
Catholic Church in the town we were passing through on our way to be with
family. We were looking forward for a few minutes to adore our waiting Lord, to
spend time in His Presence, and to silently pray and prepare for the holy
Sacrifice of the Mass.
Little in this mammoth structure would
lead anyone to sense they were entering a sacred place and holy ground. Two
thirds of this structure had nothing to do with adoration, prayer and worship. The
majority of this structure was dedicated to a huge cafeteria/auditorium area and
a cavernous vestibule/library/lounge area.
As we entered the actual “Church”
portion of this complex, we were overwhelmed with the sound of cascading water.
I thought I was next to Niagara Falls
People milled around, loudly
speaking to each other as if they were at the local American Legion hall. The extensive
drum set, piano and keyboard were in a central and prestigious location behind
the altar area. A search for Jesus’ residence failed to uncover His
whereabouts.
The noise and banter continued
unabated until Father suddenly approached the side of the altar and suggested
we have some quiet time to center our thoughts on God - thirty seconds later we
were told to introduce ourselves to all those around us. The short lived period
of reflective silence and communing prayerfully with our Lord was over.
The music was not sacred. It was
not directed toward worshipping God but rather toward celebrating the gift we
are to each other. The homily prompted periodic laughter. Though long
considered an unacceptable liturgical abuse, the priest used a glass chalice.
Two of the sixteen extraordinary (?)
Eucharistic ministers poured the Sacred Body and Blood of our Lord and Savior
from two glass pitchers into sixteen glass chalices – another practice long
prohibited by the Church for good and sufficient reasons. Only the priest and
deacon distributed the Sacred Host while the majority of those in attendance
sat patiently in their cushioned chairs chatting with each other until it was
their turn to get up and walk toward the altar.
Before the Mass ended, Father urged
more of the parishioners to sign up to become Extraordinary Ministers of Holy
Communion – sixteen apparently being insufficient to meet the needs at Sunday
Mass (?). He next called two lovely young
Girl Scouts up to the altar where their good deeds were publicly acknowledged before
the gathered Church community that dutifully gave them a rousing round of
applause – this entire presentation lasted ten times longer than the thirty second
period of silence that had preceded Mass.
Father had barely begun to process
away from the altar when the majority resumed acting as if they were still at
an American Legion social hour.
At the end of Mass, I went
looking for Jesus. I knew He had to be somewhere in this complex. I checked
several alcoves but did not find Him. As I approached the last of these areas,
there were three ushers standing there, effectively (but not likely intentionally)
blocking anyone from accessing whatever might be located behind them. I looked
some ten feet beyond these men and saw our Lord’s earthly residence through a
glass window. I entered this small chapel, only one third the size allotted to
the drums, piano and keyboard so prominently located behind the altar. Doesn’t
our Lord deserve a more honored and prominent place in Church than do musical
instruments? I knelt and spent a few minutes in adoration before the locked tabernacle, offering my presence
there as an act of love and reparation to our often abandoned, forgotten and
hidden Lord.
This is not the type of worship
our Lord deserves and to which He is entitled. Yet, this type of behavior is
the norm in far too many of our Catholic Churches every Sunday. We wonder why
so few Catholics attend Mass on Sunday, or why they claim to get nothing out of
Mass, or why the majority of Catholics no longer believe
that Jesus is really, truly and substantially present in the Blessed Sacrament
or why so few of them are willing to spend any time with Him in Eucharistic
Adoration.
It is not about us! It should
never be about us. It must always be about Him, the King of Kings and Lord of
Lords!
Return a sense of the sacred to our Church buildings!
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But for a few details here and there, I wonder how many of us who read this wondered whether it was their town you were passing and their parish church you entered?
ReplyDeleteAnd thus the reason for the deadly anemia that has inserted itself into the warp and woof of our Church. Thus the reason for the sickening dearth of Biblical spirituality and holiness we see in so many parts of the Church. And thus the reason for our nation's (and the world's) culture of death and perversion. Our actions and inaction can only lead to what St. Peter warns of in his first epistle, 4:17.
ReplyDeleteWhat you described is why I only attend the Extraordinary Form of the Roman rite unless I am traveling and am forced to go to a strange parish. I grieve for Our Lord and for all those being taught by liturgical abuse to be indifferent to Him.
ReplyDelete