The other day, we had a heck of a time getting to Mass. The boring details included three cars, a sick kid, a kid who got sick in a different way on the way to Mass, and multiple texts and multiple trips back and forth to pick up stragglers.
When I was finally headed back to Mass with one final kid, I said I hoped we would make it on time. I had been taught you have to be at Mass for the Gospel reading for it to count as fulfilling your Sunday observation.
“Kind of a weird thing to have a rule about,” the kid said.
I said, “Well, it’s because if they don’t make a rule, people will pull some kind of nonsense like sticking their heads in the door for a minute, and saying they technically went to Mass.”
I told her that, when I was little, I had heard that you couldn’t spend a dollar bill if more than half of it were missing; so I spent a clownishly long time trying to work out how I could cut a bill in two in such a way that each part would be bigger than half, so I could spend them both. (Yes, I was kind of a dumb kid.) I wasn’t thinking about it having some particular value; I just wanted to get away with something.
Well, when we got to the Mass, it was almost the end of the sermon. We didn’t make it in time. And then yet another kid bailed out for complicated reasons, and my husband went to check on her, and the upshot is that very few Fishers were truly at Mass for very long at all.
The more I thought about it, the less it made sense that I could tell by looking at the clock whether or not we had fulfilled our obligation. It is a true obligation, and obligations come with rules; and yet it didn’t feel right to be looking for a rule that had nothing to do with our intentions. So I looked it up and discovered that in fact there is no “cut off” time that makes it “count” or not.
The rule, such as it is, seems to be: “All of the Mass is very good and very important, so get to Mass every Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation unless you can’t; and be there for all of it, unless you can’t.”
I thought about it some more. (I am still kind of dumb, to be honest.)
I thought, when I was little, I couldn’t solve the riddle of the magically doubling dollar bill because the rules of geometry and the rules against counterfeiting are both pretty inflexible. They have to be, because they were made to protect something that is, in itself, perilously close to nothing. A dollar is just a piece of paper; it’s just an idea in the mind of an economist. It needs rules to make it actually be something. The rules are like an exoskeleton helping to define an amorphous blob.
But the Mass is nothing like that, in any way. And the reason it has rules is for entirely different reasons …. Read the rest of my latest for Our Sunday Visitor.
Image by Catholic Church of England and Wales via Flickr (Creative Commons)
