When Christmas rolls around, there will be some long faces in the St. Louis area, i.e., those wishing for a white Christmas. That’s what happens when one buys a snow blower, a guarantee of a season or two with little to no snow.
Got it assembled and running when I returned home from Mass. Now it sits in the corner of the garage emitting an incredible force field upon the climate of the northern hemisphere.
Speaking of Mass, I went alone this morning and decided to sit in the back of the church. There was a clear expectation of some quiet and solitude. No. Not to be.
First, a family of – who knows how many – descended on me from the aisle at the other end of the pew. I had moved in so that late-comers could see a welcoming, empty space. However, with the onslaught of baby carrier car seats, a raft of kids, two parents, I was soon back to the point where I first sat down.
I looked, hopefully, for some acknowledgement of my having been abruptly brushed aside. A smile and a nod perhaps? A sneer? A glower? Actually, no eye contact whatsoever and an obvious sense of entitlement.
Across the way, another family went into that pew while setting a baby carrier in the aisle. One of the narrow aisles in our worship space. People walked around that little guy the entire Mass. Here was a mixture of a sense of entitlement and reckless behavior.
So, we’re off! Mass begins.
What followed didn’t resemble being at Mass. Maybe not the infield at Indy, but still pretty far from being a prayerful environment. Having said that, I did avoid the sign of peace with the guy who sneezed into his hand. So it wasn’t all bad.
In a dim light... 