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(CAUTION!
These are easily the most insulting series of Articles the Rev. Know-it-all
has yet written.)
More talk about shutting
up.
Perhaps you are thinking, “I have always realized that this guy wants to
take the church back to the stone age. Doesn’t he realize that since Vatican
II we are a resurrection people and the church is the place of gathering for
the people of God? It is impolite not to greet our spiritual sisters and
brothers in the house of our heavenly Parent. Doesn’t this troll realize
that God is present in the community and that She is pleased by our
affection for one another? After all God is Luv.” (Note to the humor
impaired: the preceding was satire.)
Au
contraire, mon cher! (That’s French for “Nope!”) Have you read the GIRM
(General Instruction to the Roman Missal)? It says in paragraph 45, “Even
before the celebration itself, it is commendable that silence be observed in
the church, in the sacristy, in the vesting room, and in adjacent areas, so
that all may dispose themselves to carry out the sacred action in a devout
and fitting manner.”
Mass
is the unbloody re-presentation of Calvary. It begins with a confession of
sin; it then offers the Father the sacrifice of His Son, and then goes on to
the joy of communion with the Risen Lord. The resurrection follows the
crucifixion even at Mass. Mass is both sorrowful and joyful. It is
repentance and forgiveness. It is death conquered by life. It isn’t a pep
rally. So rejoice your little hearts out after Mass. That's
what the recessional hymn is for, followed by doughnuts and coffee in the
parish hall. (I have heard this called the laying on of food, a laudable
custom.)
The
great offenders are, first of all, the clergy. We used to be silent in
prayer and preparation for Mass. Sacristies were places where you could
compose yourself and realize the amazing thing you were about to do. Now we
scan the gathering crowd to see if we can catch the president of the finance
committee before he ducks out early for his golf game. We yak with the best
of them. We modern clergy are always “on” always ready to do the
entertaining. God forbid that someone shouldn’t like us!
The
next bunch of offenders is the ushers. They generally stand in a clump at
the back of church, whispering at the top of their voices because, as
ushers, like the clergy, professionalism makes them exempt from the rules.
And then there is the blue-haired brigade, little old lady land, as Max
Bialystock called it. I have great sympathy for them. They are the saints
who keep the church going. Their generosity makes everything possible, but
they don't
get out much and half of them are deaf as stones. They are the sweetest
people on earth and the joy they have at seeing someone they care about in
church is genuinely touching. HOWEVER, they cannot resist chatting with the
girls. They sit there talking over the week’s news with their homies,
thinking they are whispering, but the batteries in their hearing aids must
be dead because they too are whispering at the top of their voices. This is
not as I remember it from my long distant youth. I ask myself, "How has it
come to pass that the moments before Mass have come to resemble a cocktail
party after the second martini?"
You
think I exaggerate? Once I was asked to say Mass in a much more progressive
parish than my own, no kneelers, no vigil lights, tabernacle over on one
side of the church, orchestra pit and piano over on the other, 30-year-old
burlap banners everywhere urging us to rejoice or to dance in the forest or
some such nonsense
─
you know the kind of place I'm
talking about. An usher literally yelled across the church, something on the
order of “Yo, Fred! When did you get back from Boca?” I was
once at a church in another diocese attending Mass with relatives. I knew
things were not going to go well when I saw a wide screen television in the
place where the tabernacle used to be. The noise before Mass was deafening
and the noise during Mass wasn’t much better. We used to have nuns whose
mere glance could freeze water. They could quell any disturbance with a
well-placed glare. Now most of them are off at native-American spirituality
centers trying to get in touch with their spirit guides. We are just going
to have to police ourselves.
“Well,”
you may ask, “Are we just to ignore our neighbor?” No, you can greet them with a
nod and a smile, even a peck on the cheek, but if they insist on schmoozing,
just whisper, “Let’s have coffee together after Mass,” or “Wait for me in the
vestibule after church.” If it’s something really important like cousin Maude’s
complications after her latest nose job, just tell them, “Oooh! I want to hear
it all. Let's
go to the vestibule.”
“Well,”
you may counter, “I’m just going to talk for a couple seconds!” No, you’re not.
You’re going to talk until the organ drowns you out, or someone wrestles you to
the ground, and even then you will probably keep yakking! I remember the story
of two ladies who were having a wonderful conversation in church. The organist
increased the volume in an attempt to silence them. This merely encouraged the
two to overpower the organ. When, at the end of the song, the organ abruptly
stopped, one of the raconteurs was shouting at the top of her voice, “I always
baste mine in butter!!!” Take it outside, because no matter how quiet you think
you are being, you are stopping people from encountering the Lord and they have
a perfect right to prepare for Mass, even if you don't think you need to prepare
to meet the maker of the universe.
“All right! I’ll shut up before
Mass. But the GIRM doesn’t forbid talking after Mass!” You’re quite right. The
GIRM doesn’t forbid talking after Mass. Common decency does. If you see people
praying after Mass, have the courtesy to be quiet. A big part of spiritual
maturity is realizing that there are other people than you on the face of the
earth. You think that you are the belle of the ball and that all your chatter is
an expression of your good will to all the world. It isn’t. It is narcissism.
Church doesn’t exist primarily to enhance your social life. Remember that the
Scripture tells us that, “…even in the fool, silence is mistaken for wisdom.”
(Proverbs 17:28) Don’t get all huffy. I warned you this would be insulting.
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