Have you ever been to a Catholic Mass?
We're Catholics around here. For you nons, let me tell you. It is serious business.
It's largely the same every time; stand up, sit down, kneel, recite, pray. The message of each service changes but the structure does not, and the seriousness does not. We do not mess around. Nobody can get a witness in a Catholic mass. We shush and listen to the man in the dress.
J and I, we're some Catholics. Some of us more somber than other. (ahem...J).
But we've never really found a "home" church here. So we haven't attended much mass in Virginia.
BUT. As every lazy Catholic knows, skipping Mass is one thing. And skipping EASTER Mass is another. Easter is the one time each year that all the closet Catholics get dressed and make an appearance. We take for granted that we will at least go to church on Easter.
We decided, though, that since we're hosting a brunch tomorrow, we would do a Saturday evening Mass instead of Sunday morning (totally permissible by Catholic standards).
And. Since we don't really have a special church, and since Little One has been asking since we moved in to go to the church down the street, and since it was, after all, right down the street- and had an earlier evening service than the nearby Catholic place...we decided, what the heck? Let's try something new. Let's go to the big church with the billboard and the waterfall. It isn't Catholic. But it's Christian. Tomato, Tomahto. Right? Right.
So.
Peanuts.
We walked in. This church, it had a gift shop. And! A coffee shop. Whoa. And it was huge. And had movie theatre seats. With a big stage in front, all fancy with fire and stuff. Little Miss was like, "Um...what are we doing? I thought it was for chuh-ch?" We rolled with it.
By the way we are all dressed up. Fancy Easter dresses and such. Someone asked the girls if they's recently been flower girls. Nope, lady. We just get formal when we're Catholic. Nice leopard-print tights, though. Also awesome.
The girls came with their "church bags"; little purses with crayons, notebooks, stickers. I even included a lollipop I was so concerned they hush during Easter Mass.
Little did we know. Not only was this a very different sort of church than we're used to (different is good, you know), but unbeknownst to us, it was not going to be "church" at all.
It was going to be. A musical.
Yes. It was going to be a TWO AND A HALF HOUR musical play about Jesus- manger to ascension. The pastor got up at the beginning and we all prayed for the lighting and sound crew. The Littles looked at me like, "What the communion is going on here?" The live band plugged their electric guitars into some *VERY POWERFUL* amps, and the show began. Little Mister's eyes got very large. But He sucked away at that pacifier and kept quiet. Not that you could have heard Him if He's screamed; my ears are still ringing. Despite the decibels, Missy began to nod with Her lollipop candy (it broke off the stick) in Her mouth. It terrified J and I until She finally chomped it up and went to sleep in the second act. Mister went in and out the whole time- mostly out.
But Little One.
I mean, it was a *musical*. In the bathroom at intermission (all my Catholics are like, "at the WHAT now?!") yes, at the intermission, Little One excitedly told me, "Mom! I love this! It is so NOT-boring, I don't even need all my crayons and stuff! I don't even need any-thing! It's so a'citing!"
Yes. She was excited for the whole thing. She asked lots of questions and payed close attention. She did a little bounce, a little sway, when the gospel songs got rocking. She may have held a hand up, every now and again.
At the end, the pastor got up and did some talking. He asked if anyone was coming to Jesus tonight. If anyone was feeling the spirit. People raised their hands. Little One raised Her hand. Miss and Mister continued to sleep. He asked everyone who was finding or re-finding Jesus to come to the front. I let Her go. I saw Her fly down the isle in a blur of silver-pink dress and billowing hair.
But the crowds got so large I began to worry. So, with Little Mister asleep in my arms, I made my way down to the front of the seats. Little One was in the VERY front, both Her hands raised high, listening to the pastor and not caring, particularly, whether I was there or not. But I stayed.
The the guy said that all of us in the front, who had just found Jesus, would be counseled. And suddenly! There was a woman at my arm asking my name, address, and email.
Um.
Ok, so. I figured, they won't hound a little kid, right? So I panicked and threw mine under the bus.
"Um...I....I-I....ask Her!" I pointed to Little One. "I.....I just...followed Her up here."
I dunno, guys. I kind of thought she'd leave it alone if it was just a little kid. But no. The lady asked Little One to spell Her name and address and took it all down. I was just trying to get out of giving out my phone number and email, when Little One saved me by pulling at my dress and plaintively begging, "Jesus! Jesus!!"
She'd asked me earlier, so I knew. And I explained to the address-lady. "She said She really wants...to meet Jesus."
She did, guys. She had been begging since the crucifixion. She wanted a photo with him.
Lady was touched. She said, "You want to meet Jesus? Let's meet some Jesus."
And she took Little One's hand. And without even acknowledging this over-protective parent, off they went. Backstage.
A moment later, J popped up cradling a sleeping Missy. I was cradling sleeping Mister.
"Where's Little One?" He asked. And I could only answer,
"She... She...She's gone to be with Jesus."
She had.
A friendly usher ushered us backstage, too, and there She was. Jesus, who had been Risen and exalted, was standing there in his stage make-up and purple, sequined Jesus gown. Little One had stars in Her eyes. At Her bequest, we snapped a photo and about a dozen people remarked on the adorable piousness of Little One as we made our way out.
Even though the length of this production put even a Catholic Mass to shame (no easy feat) I'm glad we went. For one thing, I believe that trying new things and different things is important. And this thing was about as far from a Catholic Mass as you could fly and still say "Jesus".
For another, the kids had a great time; it was like going to a loud, slightly off-key broadway show.
Also, though, it told the Christian Easter story like no book ever could.
At one point, listening to the dialogue, Little One asked me, "Mommy, what's a 'sacrifice'?"
Do moms ever know the answer to that one.
In the end I think She actually got a lot out of it, and J and I had to laugh just a little as we hauled our Littles back home to bed. Because of course.
Of course if Little One is going to find Jesus- She would find Him onstage.
We're Catholics around here. For you nons, let me tell you. It is serious business.
It's largely the same every time; stand up, sit down, kneel, recite, pray. The message of each service changes but the structure does not, and the seriousness does not. We do not mess around. Nobody can get a witness in a Catholic mass. We shush and listen to the man in the dress.
J and I, we're some Catholics. Some of us more somber than other. (ahem...J).
But we've never really found a "home" church here. So we haven't attended much mass in Virginia.
BUT. As every lazy Catholic knows, skipping Mass is one thing. And skipping EASTER Mass is another. Easter is the one time each year that all the closet Catholics get dressed and make an appearance. We take for granted that we will at least go to church on Easter.
We decided, though, that since we're hosting a brunch tomorrow, we would do a Saturday evening Mass instead of Sunday morning (totally permissible by Catholic standards).
And. Since we don't really have a special church, and since Little One has been asking since we moved in to go to the church down the street, and since it was, after all, right down the street- and had an earlier evening service than the nearby Catholic place...we decided, what the heck? Let's try something new. Let's go to the big church with the billboard and the waterfall. It isn't Catholic. But it's Christian. Tomato, Tomahto. Right? Right.
So.
Peanuts.
We walked in. This church, it had a gift shop. And! A coffee shop. Whoa. And it was huge. And had movie theatre seats. With a big stage in front, all fancy with fire and stuff. Little Miss was like, "Um...what are we doing? I thought it was for chuh-ch?" We rolled with it.
By the way we are all dressed up. Fancy Easter dresses and such. Someone asked the girls if they's recently been flower girls. Nope, lady. We just get formal when we're Catholic. Nice leopard-print tights, though. Also awesome.
The girls came with their "church bags"; little purses with crayons, notebooks, stickers. I even included a lollipop I was so concerned they hush during Easter Mass.
Little did we know. Not only was this a very different sort of church than we're used to (different is good, you know), but unbeknownst to us, it was not going to be "church" at all.
It was going to be. A musical.
Yes. It was going to be a TWO AND A HALF HOUR musical play about Jesus- manger to ascension. The pastor got up at the beginning and we all prayed for the lighting and sound crew. The Littles looked at me like, "What the communion is going on here?" The live band plugged their electric guitars into some *VERY POWERFUL* amps, and the show began. Little Mister's eyes got very large. But He sucked away at that pacifier and kept quiet. Not that you could have heard Him if He's screamed; my ears are still ringing. Despite the decibels, Missy began to nod with Her lollipop candy (it broke off the stick) in Her mouth. It terrified J and I until She finally chomped it up and went to sleep in the second act. Mister went in and out the whole time- mostly out.
But Little One.
I mean, it was a *musical*. In the bathroom at intermission (all my Catholics are like, "at the WHAT now?!") yes, at the intermission, Little One excitedly told me, "Mom! I love this! It is so NOT-boring, I don't even need all my crayons and stuff! I don't even need any-thing! It's so a'citing!"
Yes. She was excited for the whole thing. She asked lots of questions and payed close attention. She did a little bounce, a little sway, when the gospel songs got rocking. She may have held a hand up, every now and again.
At the end, the pastor got up and did some talking. He asked if anyone was coming to Jesus tonight. If anyone was feeling the spirit. People raised their hands. Little One raised Her hand. Miss and Mister continued to sleep. He asked everyone who was finding or re-finding Jesus to come to the front. I let Her go. I saw Her fly down the isle in a blur of silver-pink dress and billowing hair.
But the crowds got so large I began to worry. So, with Little Mister asleep in my arms, I made my way down to the front of the seats. Little One was in the VERY front, both Her hands raised high, listening to the pastor and not caring, particularly, whether I was there or not. But I stayed.
The the guy said that all of us in the front, who had just found Jesus, would be counseled. And suddenly! There was a woman at my arm asking my name, address, and email.
Um.
Ok, so. I figured, they won't hound a little kid, right? So I panicked and threw mine under the bus.
"Um...I....I-I....ask Her!" I pointed to Little One. "I.....I just...followed Her up here."
I dunno, guys. I kind of thought she'd leave it alone if it was just a little kid. But no. The lady asked Little One to spell Her name and address and took it all down. I was just trying to get out of giving out my phone number and email, when Little One saved me by pulling at my dress and plaintively begging, "Jesus! Jesus!!"
She'd asked me earlier, so I knew. And I explained to the address-lady. "She said She really wants...to meet Jesus."
She did, guys. She had been begging since the crucifixion. She wanted a photo with him.
Lady was touched. She said, "You want to meet Jesus? Let's meet some Jesus."
And she took Little One's hand. And without even acknowledging this over-protective parent, off they went. Backstage.
A moment later, J popped up cradling a sleeping Missy. I was cradling sleeping Mister.
"Where's Little One?" He asked. And I could only answer,
"She... She...She's gone to be with Jesus."
She had.
A friendly usher ushered us backstage, too, and there She was. Jesus, who had been Risen and exalted, was standing there in his stage make-up and purple, sequined Jesus gown. Little One had stars in Her eyes. At Her bequest, we snapped a photo and about a dozen people remarked on the adorable piousness of Little One as we made our way out.
Even though the length of this production put even a Catholic Mass to shame (no easy feat) I'm glad we went. For one thing, I believe that trying new things and different things is important. And this thing was about as far from a Catholic Mass as you could fly and still say "Jesus".
For another, the kids had a great time; it was like going to a loud, slightly off-key broadway show.
Also, though, it told the Christian Easter story like no book ever could.
At one point, listening to the dialogue, Little One asked me, "Mommy, what's a 'sacrifice'?"
Do moms ever know the answer to that one.
In the end I think She actually got a lot out of it, and J and I had to laugh just a little as we hauled our Littles back home to bed. Because of course.
Of course if Little One is going to find Jesus- She would find Him onstage.
I'm dying - DYING! Hilarious. And so great. Happy Easter :)
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