Sitting At The Kid's Table

"Let the little children come to me, 

and do not hinder them. 

The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these."

- Matthew 19:14

Mis chicas y chicos de Montenegro

     This past week, my Parish family experienced a lot of change (and growth) due to the merger between St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Parishes. We gained a whole new church community, a whole new Mass schedule, a whole new summer-y change of pace AND a new priest, Fr. Rudy. The more I pray and think about this merger, I can only think how much more blessed we have become this week. I mean, honestly, look at the options we have now for morning Mass. We have a whole new set of family members (suh-weet), and our Pastor, Fr. Mike, now has not only someone else to live with him in that hug, lonely rectory, but also a friend, confidante and help. Needless to say, I am more than excited about this. Of course, aside from all of these fun and exciting perks of merging two Parishes, there is one important thing that must always occur when change happens: first impressions and introductions. 

     It would be a lie if I told you that I specifically dressed up every day last week in my attempt to make a good impression. Honestly, most days it's just more comfortable to wear a skirt instead of pants (sometimes I wonder why ladies ever fought to wear pants) and the perk of that is that I look like I didn't wake up fifteen minutes before going to church. I laughed at myself on Friday when I showed up in skirt for like the fifth day in a row. I couldn't help but think what maybe someone's first impression of me might have been that week. At 6:30 in the morning, one is lucky to get a few words out of me, much less a sentence or a paragraph (coffee is like gasoline...car won't run without out gas; Becca doesn't run without coffee).So, I probably appear a quiet person...who happens to wear skirts a lot. But also, I come and go without interrupting much. I enter chapel quietly, I leave just as quietly, without really talking to too many people (again...coffee). But I also LOVE to hug people during the sign of peace. Yeah...I don't do handshakes. So that's what I imagined the first impression of me might be. When I walked into church on Sunday morning for our new 7:30 Mass (yayayayay), I saw Fr. Rudy sitting in the vestibule. I was surprised when he greeted me.

     Of course, my sunny disposition said, "Hi, Father!" He said, "Good Morning. Do you live here?" At first I thought he was referencing to Croydon, like my city, so I laughed and said, "Well, yes I do live here." Then he clarified by saying he meant the church. So I said, "It feels like it sometimes, but I like it here." I was suddenly aware that he was probably confused by my presence at Mass daily. I was then reminded that I usually am the youngest one present except when I drag my friend, Trevor, along for the ride. So naturally, this would be a surprise for any priest used to the "typical" church crowd. I took this with me as I giggled and walked to our pew. Our new priest's first impression was that I live at church. Oh and I'm pretty sure at this point, he still didn't know my name. 

      When my little sister finally got to church, she told me that she just had her first conversation with Fr. Rudy. What did she tell him? All about her ER adventure to get her earring back removed from inside her earlobe (don't worry folks, she's fine; unbeknowst to us, we got two ear miracles for one family). That's just great...absolutely great, I thought. All throughout Mass, I was watching the reactions of the people to Fr. Rudy. Positive all around. He was excited to be at STA. He was funny. He was honest. People seemed to react wonderfully. I don't know why, but I love to watch human interaction; it's so interesting. I also have no qualms, myself, for wearing my heart on my sleeve, so when I react to something (everything), it's very clear how I feel. During Fr. Rudy's homily, my mouth dropped a few times, I smiled really big and I even wanted to cry. Here's why:

      The first thing that Fr. Rudy told us about himself was that during the consecration of the Eucharist, right after the "Holy, Holy, Holy," he likes to invite all the kids up to the altar. I remembered something like that happening one time when I was a kid during a Christmas mass, but I had never seen it again until I was in Peru almost a month and a half ago. It was during Sunday Mass at a local Parish in La Molina. The priest looked like my cousin all grown up and I was in awe of his gentleness. While I didn't understand much of the Spanish aside from the readings and dialogue during Mass, I knew at the time of the consecration, what was going on. Suddenly all the little kids started running toward the altar. Older kids were holding babies and the hands of the younger kids. Some were running around the altar, while others were standing perfectly still. This memory came flooding back as Father was telling us why he does this: the little ones always help him pray better. Kids are so innocent and honest, both with people and with their relationship with God. 

      When the time for the kids' invitation to go up on the altar came, I think I was more excited than Lizzie. In fact, I was. I had to drag her up to the altar. At 7:30 in the morning, she was one out of a few kids at Mass. She was one of two (err...three) kids at the altar. Yes, I took her up there and then I stayed with her. As we were standing there, I mentioned to her that she was NOW able to see everything that happens at the consecration. By the end of the consecration, she was just as in love with the concept of kids at the altar as I was. When we got back to our pew after the sign of peace, I had the following thoughts:

       Not only does he think I live at church, he probably thinks I kidnap children. I've got to tell him that she's my sister. Also, more kids need to come to church so they can be awesome on the altar. And, I think we should start calling it the kid's table. You know how the altar is the table of God, well, it's the kid's table. I've always loved being at the kid's table at family dinners. Honestly, it's more fun. I'm a kid at heart. I wonder if Fr. Rudy would be opposed to me going up to the altar every Sunday?! Hm...maybe I shouldn't. But like, I want to....

      Yes, a stream of consciousness. After Communion, I realized that Jesus loved the little children. I love the little children. I could honestly just play with kids all day. While Jesus, on occasion, ate with His disciples and the sinners, He also was the inventor of the idea of the kids' table. I mean honestly, He said, "Let the little ones come to me." At 30 some years old, Jesus was sitting at the head of the kids' table. Of course, Jesus calls us to imitate His example. So you can all guess what this means: if I want to imitate Jesus, I have to sit at the kid's table :) I smiled at this play on words and promised myself that I would never let myself lose my seat at the kids' table. 

      After Mass, I walked out holding Lizzie's hand. We said good-bye to Fr. Rudy and Fr. Mike and then were headed on our merry way. I still hadn't given Fr. Rudy my name, but I'm pretty sure he'll remember me by my constant living at church and my desire to sit at the kids' table with the kids at consecration. In all honesty, the little ones help me pray better, too. And if that's not a good first impression, I don't know what is. Quiet, prayerful, morning bird, kid at heart.