Mass is one of the places I’ve started to go since I came home. I’m trying to keep on the good side of the man above, I suppose. Since I’m not the biggest fan of Sunday mornings, I usually go on a Saturday night in the church up the road. Except there are virtually no prayers said when I get to said church because it takes all I have not to die laughing at the characters in the back seat.
There are always three of them. Three auld lads of about 80 or so. I don’t actually know their names so we’ll call them Pat, John and Mick. Tonight Pat and John took up their positions in the back seat. “What about this weather we’re having” says Pat. “Great stuff altogether” replies John. Along comes Mick and the trio is complete. “Powerful weather lads, powerful weather”. What other greeting would you imagine? “WHAT” whispers Pat who we now clearly know can’t hear very well. A silence follows to be broken by a “and what about the evenings, closing in fast lads”. “Ah shur to be expected to this time of the year” “I wonder what priest it is tonight?” Must be Fr. So and so ’cause it’s 7.35 and he’s in to earn the overtime”
The bells rings and we proceed to try praying until the sermon. Fr. So and so gives the most dramatic interpretation of a gospel reflection sermon you’ve ever seen. Now since I wasn’t actually praying that hard, I don’t really know what the gospel was about but whatever it was made for a great sermon. The characters in the gospel sound a little sketchy; “he followed Jesus around everywhere looking at him and listening to him” How many people can say STALKER!
At least I was paying attention though. The fella in the seat in front of me was texting and another young wan was quizzing her father as to whether she could keep the basket money if the basket didn’t come around. It was after about 10 minutes that the trio behind me started into their critiquing. They had themselves in stitches and I was laughing so hard, I thought I was going to have to leave the church. I have never inspected the tops of my shoes so closely before.
Communion rolled around and the lads took in the crowd; “do you know that lad over there”? Pat replied with a “I do not but I’ll ask Johnny later and let you know. Maybe new to the parish”.Eventually, we said some all for one prayers (one prayer for everyone we know) and we waited for the priest to leave before we dispersed. Of course Pat still couldn’t hear anything so it was a chorus of “WHAT? What did ya say?” before I made the escape.
If this is a regular occurrence, I’ll book my seat for next week!