BabyCatholic (my daughter, who is 15 1/2 months) writes. . .
Every week there a couple of days when Daddy and Brother are both home all day. At the end of this time, towards evening, they take me to a place where they splash in water, but they won't let me play in it. And there are no duckies. They sing, but only let me sing at certain times. They especially won't let me yell and talk when they're on their knees. A man is talking up front, but he won't notice me when I try to get his attention. There are books in front of us that I can't play with. And if I try to take one of the thin pages out of the books, boy do they get upset! Tonight, all I was trying to do was get off the padded step-thing on the floor and get out onto the aisle to explore a little and say 'hi' to all the people who were looking at me, but would they let me? No. So of course I had to scream! What's a baby to do? Clearly Brother didn't train these parents well enough!
My mother used to say that when faced with the decision of whether or not to have me baptized as an infant, she decided against it because she would have had to promise to bring me to church every Sunday, and she just didn't feel like she could do that with a baby. In a similar gesture, my grandmother stopped attending Mass when she had three young children at home. And, to add another generation to this saga, I (we, actually) have had our share of challenges, though we do not give up so easily!
BabyCatholic is at the age when she is still very, very cute when smiling (most of the time) and quiet, or chattering happily. But she is at the stage when people feel compelled to shoot those "can't you shut that kid up?" looks when she lets out a pterodactyl scream (one of her nicknames is Banshee) or otherwise asserts her independence. (Incidently, we are not really born with Free Will. We acquire it between the ages of 10 and 20 months.)
The "shut that kid up" look comes most often from parishoners who do not particularly mind when the 20-somethings discuss their after-Mass plans during Communion, or when the well-to-do family of 8 comes in after the Gloria and takes the front pew, no matter who happens to be occupying it. Many of these generous, non-judgmental souls have grown or semi-grown children of their own. However, for some reason, the priests also seem to take mild- to moderate offense if the Eucharistic prayer is interrupted by a shriek or if there is an audible rip from the direction of the baby with the hymnal. I'm sorry, Father, but didn't you notice that she was quiet during the Consecration? There has to be a special place in heaven for parents who wrestle with babies in Mass.
I do wonder whether there is more that could be done to make parents of young children--particularly young children of the squirmy ages--feel more welcome at Mass. My options all involve either vexing clergy and laity alike, or separating my family. One parish we have been attending lately will likely be our new parish home because they offer a 5:30 P.M. Mass (the only time locally that does not conflict with a baby meal time) and a nursery. The first time I used the nursery was three weeks ago today. I pretty much stormed out with SquirmyCatholic (you know who I mean!) during the first reading, deposited her with two friendly women, and returned for the Gospel. The entire time I was looking back to make sure they were not bringing her to me crying. Much as I enjoyed the opportunity to focus on the Mass, I felt that there was something missing. Perhaps because there was. It feels somehow wrong to split up the family during Mass. I remember when she first noticed the statues of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Immaculate Conception. She pointed to Jesus and said, "hi! . . . hi! . . . hi!" This evening, she tried to investigate the contents of our mouths after Communion. There's something special in these moments, if only because her innocence redirects our attention to certain elements of the Sacred.
The Orthodox Roman Catholic has beautiful, evocative words to say about Sacred Silence. I have experienced the silent, reverent beauty of the Tridentine Mass--before I had my second child! For me to do my part to provide for the Sacred Silence in the Masses I attend, someone must be exiled--my baby, or perhaps myself. I could, perhaps sit in the windowed second-story room constructed as an afterthought in the renovations of the student parish we had, until recently, attended regularly. The view is. . . Wait, what view? The room can not accommodate more than 2 adults with a child each. In the parish that generously provides a nursery, the "crying baby room" is actually the Narthex. From The Catholic Encyclopedia:
"In early Christian architecture a portion of the church at the west end, separated from the nave by a low wall or screen and reserved for the catechumens, energumens, and penitents who were not admitted amongst the congregation."
From Wikipedia:
"The narthex of a church is the entrance or lobby area, located at end of the nave, at the far end from the church's main altar. Traditionally the narthex was a part of the church building, but was not considered part of the church proper. It was either an indoor area separated from the nave by a screen or rail, or an external structure such as a porch."
This provides a good indication of the location, I think. Basically, it's the foyer--the first level, where one partakes of Holy Water in preparation for entry into the church proper (or the Church proper, as the Baptismal font is also located in this area in this particular church!) Noisy children and their unfortunate parents are treated as "catechumens, energumens, and penitents who were not admitted amongst the congregation"--not quite worthy of admittance. We either sit together in the isolation booth, or we split our family, which, unified and fruitful, born of a Sacramental Marriage, is supposed to provide an example to others within the Church.
This evening, the pastor was rehashing a Pro-Life homily that he has given almost verbatim at least two other times in our memory. Unhappily, I was left with the message, "We're Pro-Life, but we don't want them crying in church." In all fairness, I don't believe this is what he would have wished.
8 comments:
You might enjoy this post about taking kids to Mass.
I'm all for teaching children who are old enough to understand the proper decorum for church. But until then, it's exile! ;)
You bring up a good point in your last paragraph. That's one thing that always bugs me about us Catholics. So many are quick to judge parents because there very young child won't stop crying. Who has control over that? Now I can understand if the child is throwing a fit that you may want to step out. But what harm does the occasional scream do? Like you said, we're pro-life, but babies shouldn't cry in church. Well guess what...that's part of life and show me a baby that goes an hour without making a sound while awake, and I'll call that a miracle.
Even Catholic Mom's post indicates that this is somewhat of a problem. I mean, to constrain kids could teach reverence or attach negative associations to Mass attendance, depending on how it plays out in the rest of family life. I personally like the idea of the kids' liturgy--their own version of the readings and homily--which allows the little ones with short attention spans to have a change of scenery before returning for the Liturgy of the Eucharist. It rather reminds me of "children's church" at the Baptist Church I attended briefly when I was about my son's age. One thing the Protestant churches know how to do is keep the kids interested--against their parents' efforts, if necessary.
So my question is, how does this relate to the Culture of Life? It seems like this is an opportunity. What happened to Catholic family culture? Is it reduced to a joke, or to those who can comfortably afford 6 or 7 kids, or to the parishes that still have a predominant ethnic culture that encourages (or tolerates, or joyfully accepts!) this traditional Catholic stereotype?
A viable part of the Culture of Life is the Culture of the Family--traditionally a very visible element of Catholicism! However, if even those Catholics who have children are so forgetful of what it means to have toddlers that they make families uncomfortable, and if priests are complicit in this, doesn't this speak to a larger crisis of consciousness?
My husband suggests that perhaps there should be a clearly designated "family Mass," since there already is a designated no-incense Mass (not that I've smelled incense at more than 3 Masses over the past year). The Korean Mass and the Spanish Mass seems well-populated with children, and yet seem sufficiently reverent.
I'm very fixed lately on the idea that the real way to combat the Culture of Death, the true way to end abortion, child abuse, neglect, and a number of other problems, is to promote a change in consciousness regarding parenthood and children: children are not burdens, and they are not empty emblems of our beliefs. Families should not be treated as a nuisance, they should be welcomed and accommodated. Unfortunately I am reminded of the Methodist ad with the "ejector seat" church. I hope you haven't seen it--it's very offensive. But the church ejects the crying baby. This is not Catholicism!! But secular culture has influenced our attitude toward children, and it is all too easy to shuffle them out of site. I'm not sure where the babies were pre-Vatican II. Perhaps at home with my grandmother. And then when they were older, they were fully aware of the consequences of their misbehavior. I think we are capable in our enlightened era, of striking a balance, using Catholic Mom's strategies for older kids, and my suggested tolerance of younger.
Any thoughts?
I'm not Catholic--I'm Baptist--and I'm not sure where the differences might matter in this particular discussion. I really like what you're saying and I do think that tolerance and accomodation for families is very important. But I also use the nursery at church every week and I don't feel like my daughter misses out on anything when she is there instead of the worship service (again, we don't have the rituals and other parts of Mass that might make a difference in the way you feel). My daughter would be miserable in the service and I would be pretty miserable trying to keep her still and quiet (and most definitely getting the nasty looks)--I don't think that either of us would truly worship. I feel fulfilled and moved in my worhship service, even without my daughter there (after a short adjustment period necessary to trust that she was okay in the nursery). What really stands out to me is that my daughter, about three months ago, began to ask to go to church. She loves it. She is two years old, and at just the right age to tell us the stories she learns at church at show off her Sunday School pages that she gets to take home. I have started volunteering in the nursery myself and I have been moved by watching the interaction of children with each other as they learn about Jesus and faith through play and teaching methods designed specifically for very young children. I don't feel like my child or I are being excluded in this case but that we are being offered opportunities for worship that cater to our family's needs. Of course, this is not available at every church, but I think it is a model for a good way to do things.
Thanks, Sarah! Unfortunately, in the Catholic churches I've been to so far, nursery really is nursery. There is no Sunday school, though the "children's liturgy" seems to come close, but for older young children. It is important for the little ones to learn about Communion by experiencing it with their parents, but the whole Mass is definitely a little long for children--probably until the age of 4 or so. Basically, there has been a lot of emphasis on taking the children to church so that they will experience everything from a young age & experience the reverence, etc. But this does fail to consider the practical limitations of the toddler.
I know that at the Baptist Church I attended when I was young, there was a real effort to evangelize the children, to evangelize the parents through the children, and to evangelize the parents "for the sake of" the children. In the Catholic Church, until the age of religious instruction, it is taken for granted that the children are Catholic because the parents are Catholic (in some sense). But even so, the emphasis on taking the children to Mass does have to do with evangelizing the parents (so to speak). Hence my point about seeing things through H's eyes and how that can draw our attention anew to things we might have been taking for granted.
In my experience, too, there is a bit more going on visually and in terms of movement of people in the Catholic Church than in the Baptist, and even stand-sit-kneel momentum can be useful pacifying the toddler, though this is hardly the point! ;)
Ideally, perhaps, it would be good for her to learn "Jesus Loves Me" and hear Bible stories on her level taken from the readings in another room and then come back for the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Then we have the togetherness of worship as a family also. I'm not sure if there is any Catholic Church that does it this way, which is why catechesis is separate (at a separate time, sometimes on a different day). Childrens' presence at mass is supposed to be important for the Church as well as for the child, but that's not quite the way it's playing out. You've given me even more to think about, Sarah!
You tell it, sister!
We've spent our share of time in the vestibule with shrieking or babbling or kicking or just too-cheerful-to-stay-quiet kids. It's just part of having kids and going to church. Fortunately our parish is quite family-friendly, which means that no one is upset by children making moderate amounts of noise in church.
I've never liked the cry room because it's so crowded -- some families sit back there automatically, and so when you need to go back with a crying child, there's no room. (Plus, parents who habituate the cry room don't tend to expect their children behave as much as parents sitting in the church do.)
Time does make a difference. Our 4-year-old and 3-year-old are finally sitting still (kind of) and remaining mostly quiet in mass, and they know when to kneel and stand and sit and sing. Of course, now that we've got two under control, the 11-month-old has kicked in...
I think the years of early parenting must be akin somehow to Purgatory.
"when the 20-somethings discuss their after-Mass plans during Communion, or when the well-to-do family of 8 comes in after the Gloria and takes the front pew"
A church with 20 somethings aned familes of 8 in the pews! Count your blessings!
That said, as for the matter of kids making noise in church, there is a fine line and, "I know it when I see it." I recall once hearing a priest say that the sound of babies crying in Church is sort of like music in it's own right.
For all I have heard about Tridentine Masses being full of deadly stern people, the one I went to was full of big familes and the fact that little kids maid noise was hardly a problem, I am sure in the pre-Vatican II Church in the pre-Pill World, Masses full of kids making noise is the norm.
Kids do pick up on the sacred though, especaily if there are statues and stainedglass windows for them to ponder.
Also people need to consider, if a baby making some noise in Mass is so distracting to them, maybe there are other things beaking their concentration.
On the other end of the of the spectrum, I have seen elementry school aged kids throwing fits in Church and push-over mom and dads trying to appease them with treats, books, even on occasion a "Gameboy" (this was a Christmas Day Mass so all the non-regular church goers were out in force and the kids wanted to get back to their toys.)
Such kids need some discipline when they get home.
For the most part though we need to be grateful for the crying babies in our midst, if people want to go to a church where there are no children, the Episcopal Church is more than prepared to welcome them I'm sure.
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