Folks, I don’t know about you but there is this thing my parish does that really gets under my skin.
Before going any further, the following is just my opinion (all of it) and truly just a thought I had about children and mass today as we approach the celebration of Our Blessed Lord’s coming among us as a child.
OK, how many things could potentially follow that line? There’s the old “Let’s hold hands during Ebola season while we pray the Our Father”. Don’t even get me started on the orans posture at mass. I’ve come to accept it. Just please, for the love of God, don’t try to force me into it. I’m quite comfortable standing next to you with my hands clasped and pointing heaven-ward, head bowed so you cannot lock eyes with me when you creepily try to touch me. Then there’s the old “Dan Fogleberg Dan Schutte is the greatest composer of all time and we need to sing his ‘music’ at every liturgical turn!” maneuver. Look, I’m sure he’s a very nice man. But his music could never compare to the sublime nature of plainsong and there’s only so much of Eagles Wings or Here I Am, Lord that I can take and I, just like my spinal surgery and its effect on my insurance this year, I hit my cap a long time ago. I am just being informed that he did not write Eagles Wings. My apologies to Mr. Schutte. You’re off the hook for that one, pal.
But the thing that really rattles my Roman Rota — no good? I’m trying — is something called Children’s Liturgy of the Word. I have to say in all fairness that I LOVE my parish. If I didn’t it is highly unlikely that my wife and I would have committed to serving a three year term on the pastoral council. Our parish is a magnificent community made up of many wonderful people who are overjoyed to worship with one another and form a true family of believers. There are numerous ethnic groups who each bring something of their cultural appreciation of the faith to our table. The most important thing is that there is a tremendous willingness to serve the parish in so many different ways from among the parishioners.
“Please Momma, don’t send me to CLOW! I’ll be real good, I promise!”
So this CLOW (Children’s Litur… You’re smart folks. You can put an acronym together on your own) is something that raises my hackles. Until just now I didn’t even know where my hackles were, let alone that I had any. The idea behind it is that immediately following the introductory rites of the mass the children (under the age of 5) are called forth from the nave, instructed briefly by the deacon, and then sent forth. The first time I witnessed this I wasn’t sure where they were being sent. Perhaps a time-out? Turns out they were being lead by several (Safe Environment trained) adult “ministers” into the daily chapel around the corner where they would hear a “children’s” version of the Sunday readings and then complete “activities”. You can probably tell from my copious quotation marks that I find the whole thing suspect. For added fun the adults in the church sing a song about the children being beams of light and shining stars. The children then return during the creed.
“Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Mt. 19:14, NABRE)
Why this bothers me is because it creates a division. The children are taken from their parents and made to be separated from the community. The family is the basic building block of society and parish life should mirror the family insofar as possible. If anything, parish celebration of the Eucharist should not break families up. The underlying theme is that they could not possibly understand the readings otherwise. I’ll admit that the Revised Edition of the New American Bible is highly prosaic and replete with archaic turns of phrase no child could understand. I’m sorry. I could hardly type that out without stopping to laugh. This process basically teaches children that they need to mature into the liturgical life of the Church. I always thought that baptism was their ticket in and no one could take that away from them, from us.
Unfortunately, though, as long as CLOW continues to look and sound like babysitting during mass I’m sure it will continue. Am I being too harsh? Perhaps. For the record, though, I keep my little ones right by my side. If there’s anything tough about explaining the readings, my wife and I make sure to tackle it. And it isn’t easy. But I’ve found that they’re not quite as thick as we might think. Do the people around us look with wonderment that we’re not sending our own kids out? Some do. But, just like hand-holding, I suppose to each his own… until someone clarifies it.
Now before you start sending me hate mail, consider that this is only my personal take on one relatively small thing that many parishes do and that many Catholic parents find to be helpful. Perhaps my hackles ought to settle down. I wonder if Mylanta helps for that. My apologies in advance to the CLOW-lovers among you. As a peace offering let me leave you with a bit of Scripture that is certainly good advice for all of us, CLOW-ies and family men alike (said with a wink).
“See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father.” (Mt. 18:10, NABRE)
