I’m always curious when I come to Mass on Sunday about the story behind the glitter on the pews. Was it a wedding, quinceañera, or maybe a funeral? This past Sunday, I saw the sparkly remnants of the quinceañera Mass on Saturday—and I smiled.
It was a beautiful celebration as the young woman read her dedication to God and the Blessed Mother. Having prepared her, it was extra special. I knew that several guests in attendance and in her court were not Catholic. And the Lord laid something on my heart to ponder;
How many of these guests are hearing My Word for the first time?
God
How many have never been in My House?
I remember when our kids were in middle and high school and served Mass at Corpus Christi. Our neighbor’s daughter had a friend spend the night whose family did not practice any religion. They consented to letting her go to Mass. My friend sat in the first pew, so she could watch unobstructed. Before the Mass began, the seventh-grade girl leaned over and asked, “Who is the guy on the plus sign?” At first my friend thought she was being funny. She was not. “Who is the guy on the plus sign?” she inquired again.
In all the years I have worked for the Church, I’ve said this a thousand times:
people don’t know what they don’t know.
We can let the glitter on the pews, the sticky handprints on the windows, or the lone Cheerio on the floor frustrate us, or we can rejoice that they were in the Father’s House.
Decades ago, I met an older woman who was washing the windows of the church doors. I thanked her, and she said something I’ve never forgotten: “I pray for each person whose handprint I wipe away.” How beautiful. I want to invite us to do the same every time someone comes in late, sits in “our” spot, makes too much noise, or leaves glitter on the pews… because they were never our pews anyway.
Discipleship is all about welcoming the stranger, buying a donut after Mass for the hungry, scooting over in the pew, and smiling instead of frowning at the noisy toddler.
It begins with love and our big, beautiful smiles.
It’s so true, Barb! Thank you for always being the reminder of what it really means to be a Catholic Christian–today I saw a young mother with a daughter approaching the church (I was sacristan and prepping for Mass). She entered the chapel and paused. She picked up a morning prayer book from the bookshelf and then came on into the church. I had never seen her but she must have known we were about to begin morning prayer. I consciously looked at her and smiled to welcome her in, hoping that my smile was a warm greeting, like a nice friendly hug. I hope it started her day on a good note, feeling that someone was happy to see her there!
God gives us so many, many opportunities to do just as you suggest! I want to use them all.