At Mass today, a nice youngish priest, for whom I am grateful, decided to spent his homily walking about asking people at Mass to comment about their mothers. This priest is studying at the Graduate Theological Union (uh-oh 1) and living on his own outside any community (uh-oh 2). We will charitably assume he’s studying under the Dominicans at the GTU (a bunch of good orthodox guys), and that things will go much better for him once he’s got a supportive community around him.
Anyway, he never wandered over to our part of the church, which meant I was spared the temptation of offering this though in honor of the mothers in my life:
“My beloved mother, may she rest in peace, and my wife, the mother of our children, would both be mortified to think the Eucharist was about them and not Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.”
Update 1: The mothers were in fact called to stand at the end of Mass to get a special blessing. However, right after they stood, the rest of us were also instructed to stand and to place a hand on the shoulder of somebody or other – I wasn’t clear what exactly he wanted us to do, so I just sort of stood there. Then there was a blessing of some sort, not sure it was particularly motherly. Then they remembered there was supposed to be a second collection, and that next week there were going to be goodies for hospitality, and that there were roses for all the mothers, then we sang a hymn and left.
So we got the full ride Mother’s Day experience, I suppose.
Update 2: Irony Immunity – this is also at a church where the kids are all sent out for a special dumbed-down version of the Liturgy of the Word delivered by a catechist. So, the little people that make most of the mothers in the congregations mothers aren’t there for the discussion of mothers.