Last week, I experienced the most ‘train wreck-y’ of all Masses I’ve ever seen in my life.
I loved it.
We arrived at a tiny, rural mission church about fifteen minutes early, to find ourselves in a line of cars waiting for the front gate to be opened. Why was the gate closed so close to the start of Mass? Oh well, I announced to my family, I read online that there will be a visiting priest this week. The pastor is on vacation.
After someone arrived who could open the gate, however, we unloaded ourselves from our vehicle only to wait once again in the summer heat. It appeared that, not only did the visiting priest not know Spanish to communicate with the mostly Spanish-speaking congregation, he also did not know how to unlock the church doors.
About five to ten minutes after the scheduled start time for the Mass, a pickup truck carefully flew into the parking lot, came to an abrupt halt, and out jumped an apologetic senior citizen wearing a dirty white t-shirt and hay literally falling off his denim overalls, as if he’d jumped off his tractor to deliver the keys.
I don’t know how late the Mass officially began, but it didn’t happen as it did without:
The English-speaking lady who remembered to turn on the air conditioning system, which struggled to combat the 100°F+ heat
Five solid minutes of parishioners in the front row bumbling between the Spanish Lectionary pages to help the priest locate the correct Sunday
A sweet boy who shyly passed out sheets with Microsoft Word printed song lyrics to all present
The families in the pews who belted out those songs — mostly without glancing at the lyrics
A kind woman who made a beeline for the sacristy when the befuddled presider paused and suddenly asked about the Prayer of the Faithful
An understanding gentleman who proclaimed the Word and read the petitions
The young lady who volunteered to translate the homily in real-time — a homily which had clearly not been altered to assist in communicating the message to a non-English speaking congregation
My random suggestions of methods to non-verbally communicate an English word or idiom which she struggled to translate
Heroically patient altar servers
A wide-eyed infant sitting in front of us whose chubby smile caused me to smile widely, which — I believe — caused the presider to believe that I was extremely entertained by his twice-lengthened homily
…and so many more people, of course.
As we walked out of that tiny building and into the blinding sun, I found myself profusely thanking God.
To an outside observer, this particular Mass could have easily scandalized, stressed, and frustrated. It was extremely unorganized. (I’m glad it was never live streamed…)
It reminded me of how I used to think about the Catholic Church. I used to be very precious and guarded about it. I used to think that the ‘best Masses’ were the ones where everyone dressed to the nines, sang traditional music to a skilled organ and choir, and not a thread in the altar cloth was out of place.
Christ’s sacrifice for us was not aesthetically pleasing nor orderly. His body was not given for up for us to a perfect choral soundtrack. There were emotions, struggles, questions. There was confusion, crowd participation, and weakness. Although we do not strive to inject such characteristics into every Mass — preferring to offer God our finest gifts, our minds can easily drift toward perfectionism and moral judgements amid ethereal church settings.
Sometimes, we need messy moments to humble us; to remind us that our unity as Church makes us more beautiful than could any perfectly coordinated liturgical plan.
The Prayer of Jesus
And I have given them the glory you gave me (Father), 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. — Gospel according to John 17:22-23
Come, Holy Spirit. Help us to live as one Body in the Glory of God. Amen.
I love this. I too used to get very hung up on details, and easily became irritated if things didn't seem to come up to my (read: chronically online Catholics, including myself) standards. I've mellowed with age and screen time limits, and I find myself so much happier by giving others grace.
Thank you for sharing this beautiful experience, Angela. ❤️