Anna O’Neil wrote and published a beautiful letter on the Aleteia website to parents who bring their young children to Mass.
Simple but true and moving words that help parents understand that “Christ is there to remind us that he does not see what the rest of the world sees.”
Dear exhausted and discouraged parents,
your children are terrible at Mass. Noisy, disobedient, and restless, week after week. It is as though a huge, old spotlight were shining on you and your apparently poor parenting the whole time. They are there with you. I have begun to dread Sundays. We have tried everything: going to the first Mass, the evening Mass, books about Mass, whispered explanations, whispered threats, sitting in front, sitting in back, going straight to the children's room... and perhaps some of these tricks have worked, but the bottom line is that we cannot leave that building without someone screaming, making a mad dash toward the altar, or God knows what else.
But despite everything, every week my chaotic, noisy family and I go to church (in the back!), wandering around, distracting everyone and subjecting ourselves to the judgment of a great many people who may not understand how difficult it is to teach a child to sit quietly for 45 minutes. It seems crazy. And yet we still put on our Sunday best and go, as Mother Church asks us to do.
I want you to know that if this is also the case for you, everything is fine. In fact, it is even better. Christ had something rather important to say to people like us:
“Then he looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box.
He also saw a poor widow who put in two small coins; and he said: “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all the others; because all these people have contributed from their surplus, but she, from her poverty, has put in all she had to live on” (Luke 21:1-4).
Isn't that exactly what we're doing? We are literally giving everything we have to obey the request to attend Sunday Mass (a little embarrassment is not a good reason to stay home).
To the outside world, it seems that we have done the bare minimum.
We went to church, that's true, but are we focused? Are we having a spiritual experience? Did we hear even a single word of the Gospel? We are the only ones who know how much we are truly giving. But Christ knows too.
Just as the widow's two small coins seem like nothing compared to the rich man's bag of gold, our contribution seems so meager that someone might wonder why we bother offering it. Why go to Mass if we'll spend the whole time trying to prevent trouble caused by the children? But Christ is there to remind us that he does not see what the rest of the world sees.
I often leave Mass feeling that it was a failed experience. I wasn't able to follow along, and I rushed out so quickly that I didn't even genuflect. What kind of Catholic am I? If you feel this way too, don't forget that having young children or children with special needs, or being in any situation that makes it impossible to kneel in silence and listen attentively, is a unique kind of poverty. And in our poverty, we truly give everything we have by simply doing our best. Even if our best is merely physically going to Mass.
So don't stop going, and please, don't worry too much about how your family may look. Even if it never gets easier, keep doing what you're doing, and know that even when the world doesn't, God sees how precious your sacrifice is.
