[A]fter I had received the body and blood, soul and divinity of Our Lord Jesus Christ in my mouth, and as I was proceeding back to my pew (still with the Body of Christ in my mouth), the women’s ACTS group finished their rendition of “How Great Thou Art.”
Then half of the congregation clapped and catcalled and whistled and cheered.
During the Eucharist.
For the women’s ACTS group.
And that, my friends, was the deal breaker for me and my parish. I can ignore the ritualized clapping after the choir finishes the final song of the Mass. The priest is gone, the tabernacle is sealed, and the Mass is ended. I can even ignore the fact that the choir director is an ageing ex-hippie gal who shakes her butt whenever she uses the tamborine during a song. I wince but don’t walk out when the altar servers walk up to the altar and start grabbing the crystal chalices filled with the Precious Blood and handing them to the deacon. I can deal with the fact that they use crystal for the chalices and for the ciboriums, even though the Bookman and I have been looking into buying some of the less expensive precious metal ones and donating them to the church.
But the fact that a large percentage of the congregation thought it was acceptable, in any way, shape, or form, to applaud a musical performance during the most sacred mystery of the Eucharist . . . that tells me right there that the people at that parish have no clue what the Mass is about. The disrespect staggered me. I actually gasped, just stunned that anyone could possibly think that it was an appropriate time for catcalls and whooping.
I don’t blame this lady for leaving her parish one bit. It’s sad, though, that she
could not have been a force for change. I’m sure it wasn’t for lack of trying.