Monday, October 27, 2003

Applause in Church....
grates on me. Badly. There have been several contentious Sunday trips home when I have been pressing the case that my husband (and a large number of fellow parishioners) are being crass when applauding our organist for an exquisite postude. I do not argue with the fact that the man is a fabulous musician. My argument is that he is playing for the glory of God, not the approbation of his fellow man. And if people want to tell him how marvelous he is, they could always stop in the rectory and leave a nice note in his mailbox. boys were blown away when I spontaneously joined the applause after a great homily yesterday. (Though not nearly as stunned as if I followed my initial inclination to shout out “Amen,” - which comes only as a thought, since I ws raised as a reticient, up-tight Lutheran who would have been hard pressed to yell “Fire” in church if our lives had depended on it. I would have, of course, mentioned the fire to an usher, who would have had to decide at what point to interrupt the service....)

I am not inferring that my parish suffers from a lack of outstanding homiletics. But yesterday, the priest did not mince words. He did not engage in any circumlocution that left the meaning it to the intuition of the parishioner. For the sake of those who need it articulated in exact language, the homily contained specific words. Words such as death, abortion, euthanasia, Terry Schiavo....

A stern reminder is always in order. I am sure I was not the only person in the congregation whose mind wandered for a moment when Father said, “Consider your end.” There was the brief moment when my mind drifted off in search of a better place to put the NordicTrak so that I could shore up my end.

And I did thank Father after Mass. And not on behalf of my gluteal fitness.

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