- Feb 5, 2002
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We don’t go to Mass because we’re perfect. We go to Mass because we’re broken.
It is, perhaps, more important than ever to bring children to Mass. Beyond being our weekly worship, beyond the sustaining power of receiving Our Lord in the Eucharist, and beyond just establishing family traditions, Mass is often the one place children can truly witness their parents putting their beliefs into action.
But taking kids to Mass isn’t easy. And I’m not talking about the inevitable theological discussions with pre-teens and teens who would much rather sleep in on Sunday and follow their friends’ more worldly paths. I’m talking about taking my three children age 6 and under to weekly Mass, even when sometimes it seems I might never actually participate without spending half my time hissing all manner of pleading and threats at the trio who are just moments away from inciting pure chaos.
On All Souls’ Day, though, my son was photographed by the Nashville Diocese’s own photographer, pious as an angel, kneeling in the aisle, eyes raised to heaven, so that he could witness Bishop Mark Spalding. He later told our pastor at the Cathedral of the Incarnation that he wanted to be a “baby priest” (which is what we call the seminarians we pray for, pictured on a holy card taped to our fridge) and planned a “priest outfit” for a special “What do you want to be when you grow up?” dress-up day at school.
You’d think we were perfect pious parents! Our little 6-year-old so enchanted by the Blessed Sacrament that he moved where he could see it clearly, my husband and I behind him in the front row.
Continued below.
www.ncregister.com
It is, perhaps, more important than ever to bring children to Mass. Beyond being our weekly worship, beyond the sustaining power of receiving Our Lord in the Eucharist, and beyond just establishing family traditions, Mass is often the one place children can truly witness their parents putting their beliefs into action.
But taking kids to Mass isn’t easy. And I’m not talking about the inevitable theological discussions with pre-teens and teens who would much rather sleep in on Sunday and follow their friends’ more worldly paths. I’m talking about taking my three children age 6 and under to weekly Mass, even when sometimes it seems I might never actually participate without spending half my time hissing all manner of pleading and threats at the trio who are just moments away from inciting pure chaos.
On All Souls’ Day, though, my son was photographed by the Nashville Diocese’s own photographer, pious as an angel, kneeling in the aisle, eyes raised to heaven, so that he could witness Bishop Mark Spalding. He later told our pastor at the Cathedral of the Incarnation that he wanted to be a “baby priest” (which is what we call the seminarians we pray for, pictured on a holy card taped to our fridge) and planned a “priest outfit” for a special “What do you want to be when you grow up?” dress-up day at school.
You’d think we were perfect pious parents! Our little 6-year-old so enchanted by the Blessed Sacrament that he moved where he could see it clearly, my husband and I behind him in the front row.
Continued below.
The Un-Silence of the Lambs: Inside the Beautiful Mess of Mass with Small Children
COMMENTARY: We don’t go to Mass because we’re perfect. We go to Mass because we’re broken.
