12 October 2011: Feast of St. Heribert.
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
"Now conveniently in rear rows!"
Our lives are filled these days with modern conveniences.* One more and I'm headed straight back to the 12th century. Anymore, etiquette is dictated by these boons of technology.
As an example, upon arrival at church, one should turn off the cell phone. Taking calls in the Confessional is generally frowned upon--even if you are the priest.
Another point of churchly etiquette was brought up in a bulletin from Florida I recently perused. It asks that late arrivals during Mass take seats in the back rather than create a disturbance and distraction by walking down toward the front via the main aisle. Unfortunately, every Sunday Mass (and not a few daily) I've attended, the last four rows are packed with early arrivals. The only spaces left are from the front back.
Apparently, if one sits way in the back, Father can't use his priest-vision to see the dark deeds of one's heart. Also, a lot of this last row thing, I think, started with Jesus' story of the Pharisee and the publican. The Pharisees, now being wise to how things work, sit in the farthest rows to remind all that they are holy by being humble enough to sit in the last rows.
So with the folks attempting to avoid priest powers, those reminding others of their final destinations, the young parents with squalling babies trying to escape other young parents with squalling babies in the"cry room," the ushers playing poker and talking baseball while waiting to take up the collection, and, of course, old poots like me who need the shortest limp to the restrooms, those last rows would give a sardine claustrophobia.
* Convenience: (old middle Wendish) noun. 1. A source of exasperation. 2. A blot on the face of technology. 3. an excuse to pay 100-150% more for an item.
11 October 2010: Feast of St. Peter Tuy. Day did not exist in Italy, Portugal, Poland, or Spain because of implementation of Gregorian calendar 1582, sack of Wexford by Cromwell 1649, Battle of Valcour Island in Lake Champlain 1776, J.E.B. Stuart loots Chambersburg, Pennsylvania 1862, Vatican II begins 1962.
As an example, upon arrival at church, one should turn off the cell phone. Taking calls in the Confessional is generally frowned upon--even if you are the priest.
Another point of churchly etiquette was brought up in a bulletin from Florida I recently perused. It asks that late arrivals during Mass take seats in the back rather than create a disturbance and distraction by walking down toward the front via the main aisle. Unfortunately, every Sunday Mass (and not a few daily) I've attended, the last four rows are packed with early arrivals. The only spaces left are from the front back.
Apparently, if one sits way in the back, Father can't use his priest-vision to see the dark deeds of one's heart. Also, a lot of this last row thing, I think, started with Jesus' story of the Pharisee and the publican. The Pharisees, now being wise to how things work, sit in the farthest rows to remind all that they are holy by being humble enough to sit in the last rows.
So with the folks attempting to avoid priest powers, those reminding others of their final destinations, the young parents with squalling babies trying to escape other young parents with squalling babies in the"cry room," the ushers playing poker and talking baseball while waiting to take up the collection, and, of course, old poots like me who need the shortest limp to the restrooms, those last rows would give a sardine claustrophobia.
* Convenience: (old middle Wendish) noun. 1. A source of exasperation. 2. A blot on the face of technology. 3. an excuse to pay 100-150% more for an item.
11 October 2010: Feast of St. Peter Tuy. Day did not exist in Italy, Portugal, Poland, or Spain because of implementation of Gregorian calendar 1582, sack of Wexford by Cromwell 1649, Battle of Valcour Island in Lake Champlain 1776, J.E.B. Stuart loots Chambersburg, Pennsylvania 1862, Vatican II begins 1962.
Lighting up for Easter.
I've often thought Easter is best described as a party preceded by a forty-day hangover.
For my own part, the lead up to the most important day of the year tends to make me walk small. I am by nature a silent grumbler. Aside from "teaching moment" explosions, I generally keep my mouth shut. The downside is I'm often doing a slow burn (the upside is I don't bother saying, "I told you so," which drives people nuts waiting for it). I come into church totally bummed out by the weight of my problems and flop in the pew. I look up at the Crucifix and Jesus looks back at me and says, "You think you got problems?" Looking at what He puts up with from us, yeah, mine are pretty small potatoes.
Things get really dark by Holy Saturday. And, then, just after nightfall, a light appears--a single candle that spreads throughout the world.
We used to go to the Saturday evening Mass up at a retreat house run by some Franciscans. Just outside the chapel, there would be a little brazier for a small fire from which to light the first candle. One year, we had an enthusiastic new young priest celebrating. The old priest, Father Manny, was up to his hip pockets getting several new families from the Philippines squared away so he let Father Buzz arrange everything for the Mass. When we showed up at the retreat house, things looked a bit different. Rather than the usual brazier, there was a tub about the right size for burning a Viking long ship. Piled in the tub was enough wood to build said ship if it were required for a Norse funeral. At the proper hour, several Filipina mothers and grandmothers got the fire going. Considering most of these ladies had up until a few months earlier been cooking over such fires, it had all the muss and drama of flipping a light switch. It fell to Father Buzz to provide the drama. As the flames leaped up, frightening fire watchers in towers in three surrounding states, Father became carried away with the blessing and leaned farther and farther over the fire. Just before he set himself alight and reenacted our very own auto-de-fey (yeah, I know we didn't actually burn people during the auto-de-fey itself, but work with me here), two of the grandmothers shoved the tub away from him while three of the mothers laid hands on the hem of his chasuble and yanked. Father Buzz never missed a beat as he and the flaming tub broke formation and parted company at a high rate of speed. Let's see the Pentecostals top that.
7 April 2010: Feast of St. Finnian (or Finan) of Kinitty. St. Francis Xavier departs Lisbon for East Indies 1541, Metric System adopted by France 1795, Japanese battleship Yamato sunk by U.S. carrier planes 1945, Internet born with publication of RFC1 1969.
For my own part, the lead up to the most important day of the year tends to make me walk small. I am by nature a silent grumbler. Aside from "teaching moment" explosions, I generally keep my mouth shut. The downside is I'm often doing a slow burn (the upside is I don't bother saying, "I told you so," which drives people nuts waiting for it). I come into church totally bummed out by the weight of my problems and flop in the pew. I look up at the Crucifix and Jesus looks back at me and says, "You think you got problems?" Looking at what He puts up with from us, yeah, mine are pretty small potatoes.
Things get really dark by Holy Saturday. And, then, just after nightfall, a light appears--a single candle that spreads throughout the world.
We used to go to the Saturday evening Mass up at a retreat house run by some Franciscans. Just outside the chapel, there would be a little brazier for a small fire from which to light the first candle. One year, we had an enthusiastic new young priest celebrating. The old priest, Father Manny, was up to his hip pockets getting several new families from the Philippines squared away so he let Father Buzz arrange everything for the Mass. When we showed up at the retreat house, things looked a bit different. Rather than the usual brazier, there was a tub about the right size for burning a Viking long ship. Piled in the tub was enough wood to build said ship if it were required for a Norse funeral. At the proper hour, several Filipina mothers and grandmothers got the fire going. Considering most of these ladies had up until a few months earlier been cooking over such fires, it had all the muss and drama of flipping a light switch. It fell to Father Buzz to provide the drama. As the flames leaped up, frightening fire watchers in towers in three surrounding states, Father became carried away with the blessing and leaned farther and farther over the fire. Just before he set himself alight and reenacted our very own auto-de-fey (yeah, I know we didn't actually burn people during the auto-de-fey itself, but work with me here), two of the grandmothers shoved the tub away from him while three of the mothers laid hands on the hem of his chasuble and yanked. Father Buzz never missed a beat as he and the flaming tub broke formation and parted company at a high rate of speed. Let's see the Pentecostals top that.
7 April 2010: Feast of St. Finnian (or Finan) of Kinitty. St. Francis Xavier departs Lisbon for East Indies 1541, Metric System adopted by France 1795, Japanese battleship Yamato sunk by U.S. carrier planes 1945, Internet born with publication of RFC1 1969.
Christmas y'all!
It's Christmas Day--not Winter Holiday Day, or Sparkle Season Day, or even Big Bunches Sales Day. No, this is Christmas Day. And I expect folks to wish me a Merry Christmas as I wish others a Happy Chanukah, Happy Solstice, or a Happy Tet on their proper days.
For those of us who profess to follow the Prince of Peace, aka: Jesus, the Son of God, this day commemorates His birth in Bethlehem in the Roman province of Judea somewhere around 4 BC. Doing the counting from the dates given in the New Testament, I get His birthday as falling around March/April. My reaction to this? So what? My math may be off, possibly (but pretty unlikely) a scribe dropped a VII somewhere along the way--decimals being a little uncommon in the Roman Empire except when punishing legionaries--but what the hey? The main point is He got born. That the Church picked the same day as the Saturnalia to celebrate probably drove the Roman officials straight up the wall, leads to the charitable thought: "Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch."
So here we are. We're Christians. we're in your face, and our hands are raised to bless you on this, the birthday of our CO!
Now, Mass is over, the tree is lit, the presents have been exchanged ("Oh, yeah, Honey. An electric earwax melter is just what I was hoping for...just out of curiosity, is the receipt still laying around here somewhere?"), and George C. Scott is scaring the bejabbers out of Bob Cratchit. It's Dr. Pepper time! Oh, alright. Please pass the eggnog, then.
And remember, there are those out there who are cold, hungry, and lonely. If you're really a Christian, do something to make it better.
Signal to Task Force: Formation Foxtrot 4--Engage!
25 December 2009: Christmas Day for Western Church, and I'm not going to get into the stupidities that humans have committed on this day through history. After all, it's Christmas y'all.
For those of us who profess to follow the Prince of Peace, aka: Jesus, the Son of God, this day commemorates His birth in Bethlehem in the Roman province of Judea somewhere around 4 BC. Doing the counting from the dates given in the New Testament, I get His birthday as falling around March/April. My reaction to this? So what? My math may be off, possibly (but pretty unlikely) a scribe dropped a VII somewhere along the way--decimals being a little uncommon in the Roman Empire except when punishing legionaries--but what the hey? The main point is He got born. That the Church picked the same day as the Saturnalia to celebrate probably drove the Roman officials straight up the wall, leads to the charitable thought: "Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch."
So here we are. We're Christians. we're in your face, and our hands are raised to bless you on this, the birthday of our CO!
Now, Mass is over, the tree is lit, the presents have been exchanged ("Oh, yeah, Honey. An electric earwax melter is just what I was hoping for...just out of curiosity, is the receipt still laying around here somewhere?"), and George C. Scott is scaring the bejabbers out of Bob Cratchit. It's Dr. Pepper time! Oh, alright. Please pass the eggnog, then.
And remember, there are those out there who are cold, hungry, and lonely. If you're really a Christian, do something to make it better.
Signal to Task Force: Formation Foxtrot 4--Engage!
25 December 2009: Christmas Day for Western Church, and I'm not going to get into the stupidities that humans have committed on this day through history. After all, it's Christmas y'all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
