The Easter Circus

(Originally posted on Monday, April 13, 2008)

Most of the United States spent yesterday celebrating the Easter holiday. For Christians, it is one of the top two holy days of the year, along with Christmas. It also means that it was that time of year for my favorite event, the Easter Circus.

The Easter Circus is how I refer to the Easter Mass celebration at my Church. To truly understand the Easter Circus, I have to set the stage appropriately. There are two types of people who attend Church on Easter, the Regulars and the Irregulars.

The Regulars are those who attend Church every week. They go to their weekly Mass at the same Church, almost always at the same time, and invariably, sit in almost the same seat but ALWAYS the same proximate location in the Church. It makes it easier for God to take attendance. The Regulars have budgets. These are little envelopes sent to you by your church with your name, address and account number on them. You use them each week to make your contribution to the Church. The Church keeps track of them for you and in return for your gracious contribution, will provide a tax letter for you each year so you can deduct it from your taxes. That’s the best part of the whole budget process. When you go to Church, there are plenty of books (called Missalettes) in your seat with all the words in them…and many of the Regulars hold them but, honestly, they don’t even look at them. They don’t need them. The Regulars go every week. If there was a fire in the Church Missalette warehouse, it wouldn’t matter because the Regulars have all the prayers memorized. If a Regular had a hangover that felt like they were kicked in the head by a mule, they could still stand there at Mass and recite the whole thing verbatim without missing a beat. The Regulars know all the other Regulars. They all know where the other Regulars are supposed to be sitting. They will ask you the following week where you were. They also will subtly keep outsiders from sitting in your seat by giving them nasty stares. So it’s like a big club. For most of the year anyway.

The Irregulars are a whole different breed. They do NOT go to Church every week. In fact there are only two times during the year that you will see them…Christmas and Easter. That's when God, in his infinite wisdom, sends down a wave of guilt that drives even the most paganistic worshippers into his house. They know they will see "The Ten Commandments" on TV and know that they should be getting off their butts for at least that one day of the year. You can always tell who the Irregulars are. They appear at the door of the Church and walk in and just stop, right there at the door. They look like Lewis and Clark when they first surveyed the west from a mountain top and they are thinking the same thing. “Where am I and where do I go from here?” They are looking at the place like it is the first time they have ever seen it…and for most of them, it is. They drag in their children with them. Lot’s of children. All of whom have not had regular training in the art of sitting quietly in Church. All of whom do not know they are IN a Church. The parents make accommodations for that by bringing bags and boxes of loud toys for the children to entertain themselves with. They do this so the Regulars are not bothered by the fact that their "ADD" Irregular children cannot sit still. It apparently makes no difference that it sounds like a rock concert…just so they sit still.

To accommodate the influx of Irregulars, our Church makes certain changes. We have a parish center where post-Mass gatherings are often held. This means that we have donuts there once a month. Otherwise, we never get to see the inside of the Parish Center. On Christmas and Easter, they turn the big room in the Parish Center into a second “overflow” room for the actual Church. If you cannot find a seat in the Church, you have to go to the 'pseudo' Church next door (the Parish Center). They set up an Altar as a representation of the place the Priest should be. For those of you to whom this is foreign, an Altar is a table with candles to either side where the Priest usually resides and consecrates the Mass. The Irregulars have no idea that they are not in a real Church. The Priest never actually comes in. He is on TV over the Altar...on the big screen. It's kind of like watching the New England Patriots in the luxury box on a rainy day...you never have to go sit in the rain, but the game is broadcast anyway.

The stage was set.

So there we were Easter morning. We got there at our normal time for 10:00AM Mass...9:56AM. The parking lot is, a parking lot. Usually you can find a spot. Today, it is like showing up late for a Jimmy Buffet concert and thinking you will park up front. I couldn't have parked in front on Sunday with a 'Handicap' sticker. We are not a stupid family...we KNEW there was no way we were actually getting into the Church to sit down. Some heathen who knew enough to show up early was sitting in OUR normal seats getting sneers from the Regulars who knew WE should have been there.

The overflow room. The dreaded overflow room. That's where we were headed. You never know how the overflow room will be set up. It differs every year because it is an unusual occurrence and happens so infrequently that the person responsible (and we have a special parish sponsor, Carol, who handles this duty) can never remember how it was done the prior year. We walk straight there. We didn't even attempt the Church. That is for Rookies who, because they never actually ATTEND Church, think they can walk in and just steal a prime seat. They are the laughable ones who walk INTO the Church, down every aisle, and eventually (usually late) end up in the 'Overflow Room.'

In we walk and the lovely Carol, who knows we are Regulars, says 'we have four seats right up front.' Like I said before, a club. Carol is in charge of the Christmas Nativity Scene and has counted on me for 3 years to set it up. You bet your behind she has a spot for us somewhere. The room is unusually dark. We see the inside of the Church on the big screen...but really dark. We get to our seats. We are doing what usual Regulars do...we are looking for the OTHER Regulars to take attendance. I don't know who set this room up, but candles would have been nice. Wait, I can make out the candles in the dark. They just aren't lit.

Then Mass begins. Usually, that would be...ugh...the beginning. Nope. It is the beginning of the end if you are there to enjoy the Easter Mass. The Irregulars, who have been wandering around in the real Church thinking the Regulars would 'squeeze' in, have realized that they will be standing. Hey, they didn't get all dressed up this one day of the year to stand for a Mass that they have no idea the length of. They are now entering the overflow room at 10:03AM looking for seats. Of course they are. In come the cattle, migrating for the seats in the dark. It resembles a Hannah Montana movie at a Saturday matinee.

I recognize a few of the Regulars. You can tell because they are the ones making comments (amongst themselves) about the Irregulars. One of them is usually berating the other about making them late, forcing them into this Hell and out of their usual seat.

Then the Circus begins.

This family shows up...and you know their Irregular status by the amount of toys they brought for their 2 and 4 year old boys (my estimate). Sorry, I think they have 3 boys...my mistake. I thought the 2 FOOT bionicle toy one of them brought in was an additional child. I understand bringing a small toy to distract a child...but this was a humanoid. In Japan, it classifies as an experiment in human simulation. Wait...the toy has a long metal claw. Ok. We have completely lost track of the meaning of Easter. Death inducing toys weren't what we envisioned for Easter.

The boy with the bionicle toy sat down for 2.5 seconds. "I want to go home."

Me too.

The parents, who are in this environment for the first time in their life, give in and take the child outside. It is immediately apparent that Catholic suffering is a foreign concept to them. They have now confirmed their status as 'Irregulars.'

It gets better. Most of the Regulars know the normal drill. There are no Missalettes in the 'Overflow' room. So WE know the prayers. We rely on old instincts. The sound in the room as prayers are said is a blanketed rumble. What is causing that? The Irregulars, with no supporting Missalettes, have tried to rely on fading memories or, better yet, have started to mimic the Regulars but are about a second behind. It all drones into one long moan. It is not so much praying at this point as it is lame Springsteen fans trying to remember "Born to Run." Gotta love this.

Communion. That is when, during Mass, we go up and receive the Body of Christ. The Communion is a white piece of bread which we Catholics believe is the actual representation of Jesus Christ and we ingest it. It is the most holy of our acts during Mass. So the Irregulars start their way down the aisle. You know they are lost because they do not know how to line up. There is a format to how this works. They are lost. They follow the person in front of them. It literally takes one person to make a wrong turn before the whole herd goes the wrong way. And they do.

The Regulars, and we know who we are, immediately begin cracking up. We are giving each other those knowing glances.

Here is my perspective. Bob Kraft (owner of the New England Patriots) has club seats. My Church knows who the Regulars are. We should get some kind of ticket that demonstrates our location in the real Church. It should be assigned. The "Overflow" room should be strictly for the Irregulars. They don't know where they are anyway. They should all be put in there and have to watch Mass on Closed-Circuit TV. We should pass the offering basket (usually done twice in normal Mass) four to five times. They don't come during the regular year and, technically, they owe. If we pass it more than twice, they won't know anyway. Let's fleece them. The guilt is flowing.

Oh, yeah. I want private parking.

Happy Easter.