Churchy Things that "Used to Be"

One of my favorite rants is how folks in western Pennsylvania obsess over how things "used to be."  Perhaps you've heard -- or given! -- directions to a visitor:  Make a left at where the Isaly's used to be, then go three blocks to where the old firehouse used to be.  No wonder outsiders look at us funny.

It's no different with matters of faith.  Many many Catholics look backwards at how things "used to be," and get stuck in the past.  During this season of Lent I'm ranting on several of these things I've heard, and how we might see with new eyes.

Remember when talking in church used to be a sin?

Catholics of a certain age can remember when Sister or Father shushed us kids for talking in church.  "Be quiet!  You are disrespecting Jesus in the tabernacle."  Walk into a Catholic Church before the 10:00 a.m. Mass back then and all you heard were the shuffling of footsteps and the bang of an occasional kneeler being let down.  An usher might come over and whisper to you to move to the center of the pew, to allow another couple to sit next to you.  It was quiet in church.

There was something good about such silence.  One could pray in a personal way before Mass, or listen to the choir sing their warm-up song.  People identified "prayerful" with "a quiet church."

What is forgotten today is that during the Tridentine Mass (pre-1969) the congregation was silent before and during the entire Mass.  Only the servers, and/or the choir, answered the priest's recitation of Latin prayers.  For 45 or 55 or 65 minutes the folks in the pew observed but did not participate in what happened beyond the altar rail.

Fast forward to today.  Before Sunday Mass one family greets another when they enter.  The priest may say hello to an elderly parishioner and ask about her recent hospital stay.  The lector and servers bustle about getting the altar ready.  A teenager may take her younger sister to the bathroom.  (Remember, there were no bathrooms in the church pre-1970 either!)  The cantor comes out to the lectern and welcomes visitors before announcing the opening hymn.  I often make goo-goo eyes at the babies and toddlers, and enjoy watching their reactions.  It's not like a saloon on the South Side of Pittsburgh after a Steelers win, but there is some talking, some noise, some movement of people.

What changed?  We the church changed.  Fifty or more years ago the image of the ideal church was that of a monastery, with its pervasive adult silence.  Today we value hospitality and words of welcome; activity by several liturgical ministers; and participation by every person (younger and older) in the church.  The faithful participate by singing hymns and psalms; responding to the priest's greeitng and sign of the cross; answering prayers with a hearty "Amen"; actively listening to the familiar Eucharistic Prayer; giving greetings of peace; and walking forward to receive Holy Communion.  Today's prayerful Mass is seen in the active--and verbal--participation of the assembly, before, during, and after Mass.  Today we value the warmth of our parish communities gathered for the Eucharist, expressed in hugs, hellos and (for the little ones) high-fives.

Can there be too much talk, too much loud laughter in church?  Yes.  Everyone (even us priests) has to be sensitive to our neighbors in how we conduct ourselves in church.  Those who are looking for a place of profound silence should visit a place like our Perpetual Adoration Chapel, at Mary Mother of Hope Parish  in downtown New Castle.  I myself love silence, especially when I am on retreat at a place like the Eastern Point Jesuit Retreat House in Gloucester, Massachusetts.  But today it's ok to talk in church--indeed, it's necessary to sing and respond during Mass, all for the praise of God.