Sunday Service

Yesterday was the first time I’ve been to church with the girls since Christmas, and I probably won’t be back until this coming Christmas.  That pains me a little, but I think I might need the 8 months to mentally prepare for our next church service.

Personally, I don’t believe that you have to go to church every week “or else”.  I don’t think God takes attendance and gives you a check mark in a book if you show up every Sunday (even if your mind is really somewhere else and you are totally missing the message).  I don’t think you have to go to a building every week and sit, stand, and kneel in a specific order to be considered a “good” or “religious” person.  I’d like to believe one day we will be judged based on what we did in life and how we treated the people and things around us.  That judgment won’t just apply to Sundays, but everyday.

With that said, I like going to church.  I think it’s a great place to end (or start, depending on how you see it) a week.  It’s a place where you can share the good that’s happened during the week.  Or it can be a place to leave all the pain and negativity of the week before and start fresh.  A clean slate of sorts.  It’s a place where you might just find a message that could bring you comfort during a rough time.  And although I realize that it’s designed that way, I can normally find a way for the message of the week to apply in my own life.  I enjoy carrying the message with me into the week.  Because, again, it’s not just about one day (Sunday), it’s about all the other days in the week.

Unfortunately, all the Catholic churches in our area believe that kids should sit with their parents during the service.  There are no nurseries and very few have Sunday School programs, at least not for kids under 5-6 years old.  I’m sure that this is less to do with the family unit, and more to do with the money and liability aspects of running a nursery, but that’s their story.  It’s great in theory, but in practice?  Not so much.  Between Greenleigh’s total inability to be quiet for periods of time in excess of 3 minutes and Hazeline’s new infatuation with the word “Hi!”, we are a noisy household.  One that, out of respect for others, should not be sitting in a quiet church on Sunday.

The only Catholic church in the area that will take kids as young as two in their Sunday school program, requires you to sit down and meet with members of the clergy about what “talents you can give back to the church” before they will even let you try the Sunday school program.  We actually set up a meeting with that church because we thought it was our only option, only to cancel the day before when I realized that I’m overextended as it is, and I don’t have time to give anything to anyone else.  I just don’t.  I’m maxed out.  I can’t keep my house in check, how in the world am I going to volunteer to help at a church function?  I’ve heard from people who have actually gone to those meetings that they ask for a fairly considerable tithe.  So it wouldn’t just be my talents and time, it would be my money too.  Oh, and Sunday School only runs through the school year leaving us with nothing during the summer.  At only a year old, Hazeline wouldn’t even be eligible to go.

We’ve toyed with the idea of going to a church of a different religion and so many friends have invited us.  It appears that only the Catholic churches around us don’t believe in nurseries, but Erajh was raised very Catholic and can’t make peace with the idea.  I’ve considered hiring a sitter, but that would eventually become cost prohibitive.  And while we could go to church separately, that kinda defeats the purpose of church for me.  Which left us with our only alternative – not going at all.  Well, often Erajh will go without us, but he often rushes out to the first service of the day only to rush home and spend time with us.  Sometimes he’s so rushed, I question if he got to feel that calm and comfort that church provides me.

When I voice these issues to other people, they always say the same thing – “Don’t worry about your kids being noisy and disruptive.  That they’re kids so everyone understands.”  Okay, fine, but what if I care?  What if it bothers me?  What if I don’t like annoying other people and getting the death stare from those who don’t think my kids are as adorable as they really are?  I’m not okay with it.  I don’t like it.  And I bet if they took an honest poll of the congregation, most of them wouldn’t want us sitting near/behind/next to them.  I don’t blame them.  Not one bit.

So this Sunday we walked into a crowed church and attempted to squeeze 4 of us into 2 seats.  I held Greenleigh for almost the entire service because it was the only way keep her from making noise (and it only worked about 60% of the time).  I held all 30-something pounds of her until I thought my arms were going to break off so as to be courteous to others.  I have no idea what the homily (sermon) was.  None.  Erajh ended up spending a majority of the mass outside with Hazeline.  My family did not view the service together…we were very much apart.

And we weren’t the only ones.  I saw other parents scrambling to get their kids in meltdown mode out of the church quickly.  I saw kids bored and rubbing their eyes.  And I think the family seated behind us must have read “Hop on Pop” 9 times to get their daughter through the service.  As I sat there and wondered if this was the idea the church had when they said they wanted families to sit together .

Despite the beautiful decorations and great music, I did not enjoy Easter mass.  I tried, but I just couldn’t enjoy it.  I was exhausted.  I was frustrated.  I missed the message.  I didn’t connect.  I didn’t feel comfort.

There are certain things that I can’t do because I have kids.  Church is just one of those things.