We started going to our home parish when I was expecting Thomas. We quickly fell in love. Because our children have always been early risers, we try to attend the earliest Mass possible. This happens to be the 8am service...in which the average age of parishoners present is 78. Our church is old. Very old. No carpeted floor or cushioned pews or crying rooms or anything else that might make it a little more child-friendly. So we improvised. We sat in the very back of church and brought quiet books and cheerios when we first started attending Mass there. After about the third or fourth week of going to the same Mass, the priest confronted us. I believe his exact words were: "I expect you to sit in the front pew from now on. It is important for the children to see what is going on." When we protested and explained to him that, because of the incapacity of our children to use indoor voices or differentiate between church and McDonalds PlayPlace, we have to take our children outside 3 minutes into the Mass, he had very little pity. "I can't hear anything. I'm deaf," he says.
Great.
So we sit in the front pew. Our childrens' collective behavior worsens. Not only do the fireworks continue, but now they sing the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song...during the consecration...in rounds. Joseph has started banging his head on the pew in front of us. He picks up his trusty match box car and chucks it at some poor, innocent women 3 pews ahead. Sarah is peeling her crayons and hiding the wrappers in secret places. I was able to stop her before she could use the shreds of paper as confetti. I can hear voices behind us. I am not concentrating. I am frustrated. I am embarrassed. I am seriously wondering how in the world I could silence these children without sinning in church.
After the Mass was over, we had a receiving line of people who joined up to meet and greet the circus welcome us and thank us for being there. The priest came over and told us how proud he was of the children for behaving so well. Matt and I, looking like we had just spent the night before pushing eachother down entire flights of stairs, just smiled and politely chuckled. We have been sitting near the front of the church ever since.
We brought the children to Mass at a different church a few weekends ago. We arrived late and sat in back. The children were perfect through the whole Mass. People started leaving immediately after Communion, and my incredibly observant Thomas asked "why?". I realized that, because we sit in the front, all Thomas knows is that we don't leave until after the last song. He started getting anxious and with tears streaming down his little cheeks said, "Don't leave, people! Why you leaving Jesus' house?" Tom sees Mass as a party at Jesus' place...why would they leave early?
We can't teach that kind of love.
