Mass Confusion

I have a confession. I don’t enjoy going to Mass. It feels kind of scandalous admitting that, since I’m a lector, and since Steve and I have both worked for the Church for over ten years now, and since my teenage son has attended Catholic school since the 3rd grade. I always feel like I’m going to be in BIG trouble if I’m found out. Even now, I’m nervous I’m going to be lynched once I hit “publish” on this post.

Before the toddler, I had a hard enough time paying attention during Mass. No matter my good intentions or how hard I try, I always ended up zoning out half the time. And now, with the toddler, forget about it. Mass is spent picking her up, putting her down, then picking her up again because she doesn’t want to go down even though her twisting and back-bending keeps telling me otherwise. I get distracted from the readings with her stepping on my toes, dropping Cheerios and crayons under the pews, whining for a pen so she can draw on the bulletin. I’m too busy shushing her and entertaining her so others can listen in peace to the homily that I rarely get to hear all the way through. I robotically recite the prayers as I’m eyeballing her running up and down the aisle. Between zoning out and Operation Toddler, sometimes I wonder why I even bother going to Mass.

The truth of the matter is that, daydreaming and toddler aside, I just don’t enjoy Mass. I mean, it’s not like I hate Mass. It’s just not on the top of the list of my favorite things to do. I have been known to try to weasel my way out of going every once and awhile. Did you hear me sneeze just now? Must be sick. Need to stay home and rest. Lily took a late nap? We can’t wake her! She’ll be grumpy! I should just stay home and let her finish her nap. It’s time to go already? But I haven’t finished Win a Date with Tad Hamilton! You name it, I’ve tried it. I just don’t feel like I get anything out of Mass. I truly wish I felt differently, because my brain knows how important Mass is, but my heart just isn’t in it.

So then, why do I go to Mass? Obligation. Obligation to God. God has blessed my life and my family, more than I deserve, so I try to do things that will make him happy–go to Mass, be kind to others, etc. Also, obligation to Steve. Steve genuinely tries to live faithfully and going to Mass as a family is extremely important to him. Which means it’s important to me, for him. And obligation to my kids. I want to be a good example to my kids. I want them to grow up rooted in faith and plugged into the Church.

To me, it seems like going to Mass out of obligation is a horrible reason to go. A couple of weeks ago, Steve and I had a long discussion about my struggle with connecting to Mass. I told him straight up that I go purely out of obligation and duty. That I was sorry I felt that way. That I wish I could change it. I thought he would secretly judge me and start plotting divorce. But his response surprised me. He thinks that me going to Mass out of obligation–to God, to him and our family, is borne from love. That out of love for God and my family, I make the sacrifice of my time and energy to attend a Mass that I otherwise would not attend. I never thought of it that way. I always felt guilty and ashamed of my feelings about Mass. But he suggested that, instead of seeing my obligation as a bad thing, to see it as a sacrificial love. So, in a way, my heart IS in it.

Of course I still wish that I enjoyed going to Mass. I revere it and know it’s importance. But I don’t feel connected and I don’t know if I ever will. Nevertheless, I will keep trying and hoping. And until then, my way of thinking about Mass is shifting. Maybe I shouldn’t be thinking about how I’m not getting anything out of Mass. Maybe it’s not in the getting, but in the giving. Giving myself. Showing up and letting God take care of the rest.