Suffer the little children...

Today, when we walked into Mass, it was as quiet as a tomb.

How prescient. 

Two parents with five children trooped into church today. Before the Gospel, two parents with five children trooped back out.

Why?

Because I will not stay where my children are not welcome. 

But let me back up and give you the full story.

A few months ago, our parish (because of a lack of priests) cut out one Sunday Mass and shifted the remaining Mass times. Our "normal" Mass time was pushed half an hour earlier. Because Hubby works nights (and by necessity sleeps late), it was tough for us to make the new, earlier Mass time. So we started going to Mass at a different parish that had a later Mass time. The new parish has no attached school (read: fewer children), but does have a young priest who gives excellent homilies. I loved going to Mass at the new parish because my sons got to see a young man, vibrant in faith, who has answered God's call to the priesthood. As an added bonus, the building was constructed in the mid-1800's, and is absolutely breathtaking. (Our parish church was built less than 10 years ago. Eyesore. Sad, but true.) There is beautiful, beautiful music - great cantor, knock-your-socks-off choir, pipe organ. Smells and bells all the way. Hubby & I had considered officially changing parishes.

I don't see that happening now.

Today, we arrived for Mass our usual 15 minutes early. We came in, crossed ourselves, genuflected, and entered the pew. I didn't have to bug anyone to scoot down, everyone filed in like we've done this 1000 times before - which we have. We sat in our usual spot: a few rows from the front, on the right. Hubby & I knelt to pray. Adam, Luke, and Joey did the same. Gracie thumbed through the missal. Sam babbled.

The nerve of that baby. He made normal baby noises.

By the looks I got from the older women sitting near us, it was apparent that this joyful noise unto the Lord was most unwelcome. This sound of LIFE, to members of a religion that goes out of its way to profess its unwavering conviction about the sanctity of life from conception to natural death, was very, very unwelcome.

Let me make myself clear - he was babbling. Not screaming. Not crying. Not hitting anyone, throwing anything, having a tantrum, making a scene. He. Was. Babbling.

So the woman sitting two rows in front of us was apparently so distressed at his presumption that she felt it her duty to turn and give my son The Eye. She turned herself, head and shoulders, all the way around in her pew, to make sure that my little heathen child - who's sole purpose was to wreck havoc upon the the Holy Mother Church and bring about all of our ruin and damnation - she had to make sure my evil child (and, by association, my heathen husband, who was holding said Spawn of Evil) knew that he was disrupting her serene and quiet contemplation of her own silent perfection, moral spotlessness, and unparalleled charity.

Sensing the snit that was brewing, I motioned for Hubby to pass the baby to me, thinking that it was pretty close to nap time and some good walking at the back of the sanctuary could send Rosemary's Baby into dreamland and therefore avoid snittery.

I rose with Sam, exited the pew, genuflected (no mean feat with 27 pounds of evil in your arms) and started walking back down the aisle that I had just come up not three minutes earlier. I passed a pair of grey-haired ladies on my way, one of whom whispered to me, "Thank you."

Um, I'm sorry, but WHAT?!

ARE YOU SERIOUS?

And this is where I rant, because I couldn't do it there. 

We are (supposed to be) a Church that embraces - no, celebrates and rejoices in - LIFE. Guess what? These are the sounds of that life! Here I am, a married mother of five children, a cradle Catholic who loves her faith, the Holy Father, the Sacraments, the Church - and you made me feel ashamed, if only for the smallest fraction of a moment, of my child.

Do you have any idea of the Herculean effort it takes to get a family of seven to Mass on time? Everyone must be breakfasted, hair brushed, teeth brushed, shoes found and on the right feet, clothes clean and pressed and on, baby nursed, everyone bathroomed, out the door ("No! Do NOT brush against the dusty car in your clean clothes!") and in the pew before the entrance hymn. My husband gets home from work at 3 am. He gets up at 8 am on Sundays so that we can be out the door on time. I am a full-time nursing student. We homeschool. We are busy people. The Church - the Mass - is at the center of ALL of that. I bank on that grace to get me through another week!

Let's assume for a minute that I'm not well-grounded in my faith. That I'm not a card carrying member of the open-to-life club. That I don't know my cherubim from my seraphim. Let's say that I was a mom who had to beg and cajole her husband to bring the kids and come to Mass. What did you and your judgement just do? You denied my family a place at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. You made sure that we wouldn't darken the doorstep of another Catholic Church for a good, long time. You are culpable in the eternal damnation of seven people. Good job! Glad you got that quiet time before Mass started.

Children are not the future of the Church. Let's be crystal clear on this point - my baptized-and-well-catechized children have just as much right to be at Mass as anyone else. My children are the Church, just as any baptized person is.

They are the children of the Almighty. And He loves them.

Mt 18:6 But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.


Mt 18:10 Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.


How can we expect children to be raised in the faith if we do not welcome them into it? Here we could take a lesson from our Protestant bretheren: they know families. They know how to treat little people. Ah, the irony is rich here! I know that as Catholics we want our children with us at worship - and I agree that children should be in Mass and not at CCD or "Sunday School" during Mass time. Their place is at Mass. They need to be present at the Consecration, to see the miracle of Christ made real, Christ present for every one of us. They need those graces. So do I. But after a few minutes with my fifth blessing in the back of the sanctuary - where neither of us could see a darn thing and I couldn't let him down, as he would have drooled all over the pretty display for the Young Adult Ministry (yes, Lord, I see the irony, too!) I left. I fled the church. Me. I got the stroller out of the minivan and I walked two blocks to the mall.

So if I felt unwelcome - (me! Cradle Catholic. Homeschool nutjob who has her kids memorize the Baltimore Catechism. Married in the Church. Former Pre-Cana sponsor. Me.) - how would a lonely, searching, unmarried mom of one little baby feel, surrounded by so much judgement? One hairy eyeball and one smarmy comment were enough to ruin my whole morning, and make certain that I'll never cross the threshold of that sanctuary again. What if I had no other options? What if I couldn't drive to another Mass? What if the only experience I had of the Church was that one from this morning?

No wonder vocations are at a critical level.

Am I angry? You bet your chapel veil I am! Don't mess with my children. Don't mess with my Church.

Hmmm... Feminism

Now that I'm no longer working the insane hours of retail at Christmas (did I mention I had to be at work at 4am?! OUCH!), my brain has started functioning again. As a consequence, I've been throwing around an idea in my head, a little internal argument that I can't solve on my own. Here's the question:

Has modern feminism gone too far? Has it not gone far enough? Has it gone in the wrong direction?

To the last question, I can answer a resounding "YES!" The other two... well, I'm still working on those.

Are we, as women of Western culture, better off because of feminism? Yes and no. I'm glad that I'm not (usually) talked down to because I'm a woman. I'm glad that I can earn a decent wage, that I'm seen as an intelligent, competent person. I'm not anyone's property, I can vote, I can run for office, and I can have and defend my own opinion. Those are all great things. But I think we'd all agree that something has been lost.

First, I think that feminism, in its way, devalues the contributions to society that are (primarily) made by women. So many feminists that I've encountered want to be seen as the same as men. Gosh, I don't. I want to be a woman, but with the same rights as a man. Can I have it both ways?

Did I lose you back in that last paragraph? Feminism devaluing women? Yeppers. Happens all the time. How many times have you heard someone say, "Does your wife work, or does she stay at home with the children?" (Let one of those blockheads stay home with my brood for a day, and they'll see WORK!) or "Girls can be anything at all when they grow up. They can be pilots, or Senators, or mechanics, or doctors." Umm... where is MOTHER in that laundry list? Well, okay, sometimes it gets tacked on those sentences. Usually like this, "Girls can be anything at all when they grow up. They can be pilots, or Senators, or mechanics, or doctors. Or even mothers." Gee, thanks. Even mothers, huh? Wow. What a wonderfully glowing accolade for the job on the planet that keeps the human race alive. You're welcome, by the way.

Oftentimes, feminists discourage femininity. It is implied to be equal with weakness. Subservience. Timidity. How many times do you think of a strong, modern woman, with intelligence and strength - and then picture a woman with a child on her lap, reading a story? Or sewing? Or knitting? Or cooking a meal for her family? Intelligence? Strength? Child-rearing? KNITTING? Oh, the horror of being a feminine feminist!

Shallow-minded feminism (which is the most common kind, I'm afraid) tells women that to be valued, we must be like men. Not "equal to" men. Not "have the same opportunities" as men. But we must be as men.

And how, pray tell, is that feminism?

It's just the same tired devaluing of women, in new clothes. Now women aren't seen as stupid or without ambition, unless they choose to stay home and raise children. Please don't misunderstand my motive, here. I'm not bitter. Not in the least. Just callin' it like I see it.

I feel a bit cheated by feminism. The illusion of "having it all." It's just not possible. I'm not trying to fight another skirmish in the Mommy Wars by pointing this out, but working 40 hours outside the home, raising children, and trying to keep a house (and make it into a home) is not something that can be done well. By anyone. Something has to give. Eventually, that house of cards comes down, either in a big crash, or a slow slide. But come down it does.

There is a widespread idea that feminism created a perceived need for two incomes. As more women started working outside the home, prices rose as a reaction to households having more disposable income. As a consequence, when some families kept to the one-wage-earning-parent model*, it becomes challenging to "keep up," further entrenching each side of the debate of wealth versus family. (Keeping up is another post.)

And we don't even need to talk about reproductive "freedom." How many women have been coerced into abortions? How many women are taking harmful pills or injections that override their bodies' natural functions, in the name of "freedom?" How many women are raising children on their own, because they tried to be like men and see intimacy as no big deal, and just a physical act? (Please understand that I know all men don't think this way, but this is the way society conditions us to see a man's point of view.) How many men and women are living together, with children and without marriage, because marriage is seen as something outdated, only needed by insecure, grasping people who need a piece of paper to seal a commitment?

I'm grateful for feminism. I'm grateful for the opportunities bought for me by the sacrifice and insistent voices of so many women. And I think it's gotten off track. Or maybe it was wrong at its start: I can't tell you, I hadn't been born yet. But I can say, with honesty, that mainstream feminism is broken, and entirely too man-centric. It focuses on making women like men. And I think that subverts what should be the bedrock of feminism: women are valuable as women. Not because we wear dresses or perfume or makeup (though those are very nice perks) but because we are strong, we make unpopular choices (like giving up a career bought by years of education to kiss sticky faces and get stains out of laundry), and we are unique. And we are not men. (Let's face it girls, the men are better men than we'll ever be. Thank God.)

*see, the feminist in me won't even allow that this sentence would be better served by coming out and saying the father works outside the home!