Mass This Morning

[Guest]

So I'm sitting in the right back pew at 6:30 am Mass. It's about 6:20 and I hear Plies featuring T-Pain "Shawty" blaring from a cell phone. I figure it's going to stop but no it keeps blaring. I step out the pew and look behind me and it appears to be a homeless lady in sweats and a hoodie with one crutch. She has a backpack and a beanie with shades on. I return to my seat and a few moments later the music stops and she forcefully tells me to move and slides by me and takes a seat beside me. Before Mass she starts talking really loud. I couldn't really understand what she was saying but it was about the Catholic Church and Priest. During the first reading she starts reading really loud and almost echoing the reading. The Church is big but people towards the back are looking at her at this point. After the reading some people arrive late and take a seat. She starts saying "Father it's 6:45 !!!!" She says this every time someone comes in late and sits down along with the time. The lady sitting in front of me who is recovering from cancer and has her head covered is really annoyed at this point and looks at her and the homeless lady responds "Father you better tell this lady to stop eyeballing me!!!!" The lady in front of me looks away. At this point I'm a tad uneasy but really feel no threat although I'm going over what I will do in my head if things turned crazy. I'm debating if I'm supposed to say something to her or just remain silent. I'm sensing the lady in front of me wants me to do something. So we get to Father turning the bread and wine into the Flesh and blood of Christ. She has kept up shouting stuff on and off up until this point. A few people have moved but most have just ignored her. When we go to kneel she forcefully slams down the rail. This is the first time I really start to feel kind of aggressive and have to remind myself to take a breath. I let her out the pew and she goes up to Communion. I can't tell if she is given it or not but I am not trying to really see if she receives. I'm just crossing my fingers she doesn't make a scene. When she returns to the pew and I let her in she again forcefully slams down the rail and this time comes close to getting my foot. I can't bite my tongue and tell her she better relax because she about slammed my foot. She doesn't respond or look at me. A few moments later I let her out again and she exits the pew and starts asking for money for coffee from people returning from receiving Communion. Nobody obliges. I had already told myself at the beginning of Mass I was going to slip her a 10 or something before I left but by this point I had convinced myself I wasn't going to give her anything because being the prick I am I had allowed myself to become somewhat angry with her. That's a sin on my part without question. This lady was obviously mentally ill and down and out. I ended up giving her a 5 but I almost didn't. Any how this was the first time something like this happened to me at Mass. It was interesting to say the least. Most likely that was Jesus sitting right beside me and seeing how I would react. As usual I failed the test or at least partially but I'm glad I'm able to recognize it and write about it now. After Mass I seen her walking with the crutch and the thought entered my mind to stop and offer her a ride but I failed again and kept driving. If you can say a prayer for her today. Thanks.

Edited February 28, 2016 by Guest

[beatitude]

That was a challenging situation and I would probably have got frustrated too. I've been frustrated for far less. Once a homeless man sat near me in church who really smelled. I didn't want to move in case I offended him, but the stench was disgusting and it made me irrationally cross - it was hardly his fault. I spent most of that liturgy thinking about the smell. On another occasion an unkempt and dirty-looking man who was clearly unwell kept imitating every gesture the priest made and turning round to face the rest of us as though he were celebrating the Mass, and as he was directly in my sight line, it started to annoy me. This showed me how superficial my prayer really is. If it were deeper and purer I would have been able to identify, as you've done here, that Christ was sitting near me. I'm glad that the lady you met feels able to go to Mass, in spite of her illness and her poverty, and that you were able to welcome her in some way even if you didn't go as far as you could have done.

[Gabriela]

Both of you are much bigger saints than me. Today a family with 5 children sat in front of me and I was annoyed that one of them kept slamming books in and out of the pew in front of him. Then when mom took him outside (God bless her), another one started whispering to her brother and I thought, "Aha. That one's bad news. She only behaves at Church when mom is watching."

Then I thought how evil I am. For the rest of the Mass.

This happens a lot.

[Guest]

Yeah I didn't go off today because I was in Church. It was actually a miracle. 2 days ago I told a guy I would follow him home and kill him. Joking of course. He kept making fun of my beard and wouldn't stop talking to me.

[Gabriela]

2 hours ago, Josh said:

Yeah I didn't go off today because I was in Church. It was actually a miracle. 2 days ago I told a guy I would follow him home and kill him. Joking of course. He kept making fun of my beard and wouldn't stop talking to me.

LOL.

[Spem in alium]

When I was in Montreal last year, an elderly woman would come to French Mass every evening. She was terribly bent over, walked very slowly, was not clean, and appeared to be homeless - she always carried a large black garbage bag full of her belongings. She would sit up the front of the church. When it was time to receive Communion, she would take her bag with her and leave the church straight after, walking down the central aisle. I noticed that people -- and I'm ashamed to say, myself too -- actively tried to avoid being near her -- giving her an overly wide space to pass and deliberately avoiding touching her. It could even be easy to wish that such a person didn't come to Mass, because they are distracting -- shameful to think, but admittedly a very possible instinctive thought.

What amazed me is that even though this lady appeared to have no home, she came to Mass without fail. Perhaps she felt she belonged in church. Perhaps she really felt Jesus' love. And looking back, it makes me sad to think that people, including myself, didn't treat her with the same acceptance. I sometimes think back and wish I only would have smiled at her or not tried to move away, and that I would have been able to recognise Christ in her. 

[truthfinder]

My current parish will get the occasional homeless or mentally ill person (or both) come into Mass.  People just tend to let them do their thing and no ones been disruptive in my experience.  The priests tend to know them better and might say hi after Mass and see how they're doing.  But my last experience in Montreal resulted in a mentally disturbed man barging into Mass late, singing really loudly, and when security came (this is one of the shrines that you've got to pay at unless you specifically say you're there for Mass - so he probably snuck in), he ended up running around the altar.  I was fearful he was going to attack the very elderly lector.  Eventually he ran right back out again and security was paging for police.  That was all a bit scary.  But I also understand the people who just get on our nerves at church - the kids who keep talking (and the adults), the old person who keeps fidgeting, etc. Sometimes I just have to close my eyes and pray for patience.

[clk]

I am sure I have been as you all describe, but reading your posts made me wonder if this is how we all appear to God?  When he sees our behavior, does He also want to move away from us too, but because He is all Love, does he beckon to us instead?  All of you describe him calling when you acknowledge your lack of charity in those moments.  We have all been blest by that conscience within.  Sadly, for me, I wonder how much worse I would be if I didn't have my faith.  I fail so often.