Young children belong at Mass. They should be invited to worship and always be welcomed by the Body of Christ, not just on their Baptismal Day or when they’re old enough to understand the Eucharist (at what age does that exactly happen anyway? Does anyone ever fully understand the Eucharist?). I believe all of this with every fiber of my being. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t days when I’d rather leave my kids at home. It doesn’t mean I don’t often find myself praying, “Please, please, God, keep Rae quiet. I know she says she’s hungry, but I just fed her. Can’t you fill her up until Mass is over? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Give us our daily bread? Please, please? And, please-oh-please, don’t let that rumble in the baby’s tummy mean she’s about to empty her bowels. I don’t have an extra diaper. My bad. Lord, hear my prayers! Amen!”
Frankly, some Sundays are very, very difficult, especially when my husband is working, and I have to juggle three kids solo.
The girls have actually been doing quite well with the exception of Rae always saying she’s hungry at least a half dozen times and Mary Elizabeth’s (M.E.) very vocal protests when we don’t allow her to kiss everyone nearby. The child puckers her lips at strangers all of the time. She loves the Sign of Peace, but she wants to do more than just shake hands. Let’s get physical, physical. I wanna get physical. We’re hoping her lack of inhibition subsides before the dating years.
Since moving we’re settling into our new faith community, and I’ve been so very happy with the way my children are welcomed at Mass. During one celebration when children all around (not just my own) were singing like angels (and sometimes Metallica), a woman next to me smiled and then whispered, “Well, the children are certainly happy to be here today.” I wanted to kiss her. I really did. But I figured that wouldn’t be setting a very good example for M.E.
This past Sunday – thank the Lord – the older girls were very well-behaved. However, Mary Elizabeth screeched like a howler monkey several times. When she did make her very loud noises, no one shot me a nasty look. No one groaned. No one even did anything except smile. Yes, smile! Then the man beside me said, “Your family is beautiful.” Never mind that he must think loud primates are beautiful. Then as we were leaving, a woman came up to me and commented on my sweet daughters. “Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry we provide our own soundtrack.”
“Not at all,” she said. “I have four daughters. I understand.” I looked at her four grown (and quiet) daughters, a lovely quartet of girls with red hair and creamy skin dusted in freckles, and I thought, “She hasn’t forgotten. She’s a mom who hasn’t forgotten even though her girls are grown and don’t poop at the most inopportune times what it’s like to have young kids and to be doing your best to bring them to Jesus without distracting everyone else away from Jesus.”
And I realized that I don’t just bring my kids to Mass because I want to tend to their spiritual selves as much as their physical and emotional ones or even because I want them to fall in love with the faith while they’re young. I bring them to Mass for me, too, so that I grow in patience, so that I can grow in love. I go to Mass as the brilliant wordsmith Betty Duffy so beautifully put it recently because Jesus wants me to be there. And he wants my kids to be there, too, if not for them, then so that I can be reminded on the days when I want to cry or scream or surreptitiously pinch or do something, anything to get my fidgety, noisy kids to just be still and be quiet – that God’s grace abounds. Sometimes it’s not as obvious as when it’s found in the Eucharist. Sometimes God’s amazing grace is unexpected and maybe even undeserved (like when you’ve actually considered pinching your child) and can be found in the smallest things like the encouraging smile or generous compliment of a stranger. I’ll take it whenever and however I can get it.
I was in the grocery store the other day and this poor woman was trying desperately to finish her shopping with a 3-year old boy trailing behind her sobbing and screeching at the top of his lungs about how he "just wanted to go home". I made a point of going up to here and smiling and telling her that I had 5 kids and had completely been there. She smiled gratefully and commented about not having any other choice but to get her shopping done and moved on. I was so glad I took a moment to encourage her – because we HAVE all been there at one time or another. And even though I have moved into a different stage, still remember how much the stares and glares of strangers can lessen your confidence as a mother, but how much an understanding smile can lift you up.
Well said. So true about those moments of grace. And about how sometimes our being there is an opportunity to grow in patience.
Even though, as you know, I heartily agree with you that kids belong at Mass, I have to say that I've recently come to a new appreciation for parents who don't take their kids to Mass because we did run into a situation where we discerned that for a time it was best for us not to all go.
We did a month or two of going to different Masses while Ben was in his latest bout of teething. Our usual Mass time is now right in the middle of his morning nap time. In the usual run of things I don't mind delaying his nap and dealing with a slightly tired baby during Mass; but a tired baby who is screaming his head off and arching his back because of teething pain… well, I'd be spending the whole Mass in the car anyway because our church doesn't have a cry room and in the summer the vestibule doors are kept open for air circulation. It seemed like torturing him to take Ben to Mass when he most wanted to be sleeping. So I went to a few early Masses both with and without him. We left him home with my sister a few times to sleep. And eventually the teething stopped and last Sunday we finally all went to Mass together as a family once again.
And oh how nice to have him point to the crucifix and say, "Jeesh" in his sweet little voice. One of those moments of grace that remind me why I am committed to taking even the youngest of my children to Mass.
this was a beautiful post, Katie :) I'm so glad you found your new church home to be so welcoming :)
Oh boy, It doesn't get better? My son is 14 months and I keep thinking he's going to be a great well behaved boy at Mass in a few months. I guess my dreams are shattered by this post… haha jk LOL.
My son is SO busy at Mass. Sometimes he'll just keep kinda quiet in the pew playing with the extra envelops and church prayer cards. But, if he gets one glimpse of the windows/doors in the back of the church he repeats 'outside, outside, outside…'
I am really so happy to hear that your parish is so kid friendly and understanding of the noise. It's so hard to wonder if we're bothering people or not. Part of the reason is because I don't think there's enough young kids at church. So often times I feel like we're the only ones with a one year old. (we're not but it feels that way) And, we do have a 'cry room' but, even our deacon doesn't like it. Because he wants kids to be in Church. I feel like we've gotten used to their being no kids that when kids do make noise it's so out of place everyone turns and stares.
Even though my son is noisy, I love taking him. When they concentrate the Eucharist I always say, 'there's Jesus up there'. And I have to wonder if he can just see Jesus through his pure eyes?
Thanks for your post. This one was so close to home. And it feels encouraging to know that your new parish is so welcoming!
"Prayers about Poop".. hehe!
I really enjoy this post! I try and give smiles to those parents whose kids are getting a little restless during Mass. I know I will appreciate that someday!
Leave it to me to bring up poop and prayer in the same post, right?
Melanie, I love those moments of grace. They're what keep me going and bringing my children to the Lord's table. That said, I occasionally do make it to Mass solo. Sometimes my older girls spend the night with the grandparents, and I sneak away with just M.E. or my husband will watch her. It's nice to every once in awhile have solo prayer time. Even Jesus went away to be alone; yet, the disciples kept finding him! I can relate. I just never want it to become a habit of mine to leave my small ones at home. I fear if I wait for them to be perfectly behaved (and let's face it: many of us adults aren't perfectly behaved in Mass either!), we'd never make it to Mass together as a family, and I'd be sending my children the message that Mass isn't for them when the bread is broken for us all. Also, I'd miss out a chance to grow in virtue by bringing wiggly ones to Mass. :-)
God bless all you mothers out there who are bringing your little ones to Mass.
Kate, I suspect some of the most fervent prayers are probably uttered by mothers over poop. At least I know mine are.
I think you got exactly what I was trying to say: I don't mind the occasional leaving a child behind; but I don't want it to become the default. (I love the way discussing things with you helps me to refine my thoughts.)
Thanks for this. Took my son to Vespers tonight and while it wasn't horrible, it was challenging. Truth is that it is always challenging!
Thank you! I needed this today after our 'trip' to Mass yesterday. We where on vacation with my dad's family and we are the only Catholics (well my brother is but he does not practice – another story). Well we 'drug' the kids off to Mass while their cousins and second cousins stayed at the hotel to play.
My kids (the oldest two) proceeded to pitch a fit about going to Mass when no one else had to go. We told them that we (our immediate family) go to Mass and that is that. However, it is very hard when you have kids who do not want to participate, who ask when is it over, who want to sit with arms crossed in front of themselves and all you want is that they just listen and participate. It is not like they are new to Mass – but you would think we are torturing them.
Thank you for reminding me of the WHY while I suffer through these days. I am doing my best to offer it up but it is very hard some Sundays/