Anatomy Of A Catholic Mass

I have been asked by many non-Catholics just what goes on during a Sunday mass. Being a former Altar Boy, I think I can amply field this question.

To the naked eye and non believers, it appears that Sunday mass is nothing more than a very upscale exercise program. You see a lot of standing, sitting, standing, sitting, kneeling, singing, standing, sitting, and walking. (A regular aerobic exercise) (They should charge for the workout. Get your heart and soul fit with the Lord)

But to the trained observer (Me) and Catholic parishioners, there really is a method to the madness. As always, to understand, we must start at the beginning.

Catholic mass can be broken down into 5 segments.
1) Intro
2) Damnation
3) Fire and Brimstone
4) Feast
5) Outro

The Intro, or introduction of the mass, is a very important part. This part determines the length of the mass by what priest is running the show. A Parrish usually has 2-3 priests in the collective and each one has their own style and pace to say mass. Depending on your luck of the draw, you could be in for a 20 minute, 45 minute, or 75 minute or more service. (No matter the length, at this point everyone is standing.)

How the priest begins mass tells you everything you need to know how long the mass will be. The long version introduction begins with the priest, altar boys, deacon, and a member of the congregation carrying the good book. They all gather at the back of the church and make a grand entrance with organs blazing. It's sort of like a parade, just one you don't want to go to.

The cross bearer altar boy leads the way, followed closely by the good book carrier, then a short distance behind are the altar boy servers, then the deacon, usually in a beard and robe, and lastly, the priest slowly walking up the center church aisle taking his place on the altar facing the congregation as we belt out one of the classics.

The medium version is less drawn out. There is no book hauler, no deacon, no cross bearer, just two altar boys and the priest. The medium mass has the procession coming from the side entrance, a much shorter distance, hence, a much shorter hymn. The altar boys walk in front of the priest and all three walk immediately up to the altar.

The short version is quicker yet. There is no procession and no hymn. Just a short blast from the organ and as if by magic, the priest and altar boys seem to appear on the altar and the mass begins straight away. (Usually, there is an entrance behind the altar that the priest and altar boys come out from. No trap doors or smoke screens like magicians use)

Each priest would then stay in long, medium, or short mode for the rest of the mass meaning each segment would either be long and drawn out or fly like shit through a goose.

It was obvious the priest saying the short mass was the most popular and best attended services. Parishioners knew that speedy Father Flanigan always did the 10 am service and the church would be packed. Twenty minutes to save your soul on a Sunday morning was far better than the 75 minutes of hell at the 11:30 service. Us Catholics ain't no dummies. We're damned to hell, but ain't no dummies.

However, the church countered with a revised schedule and rotated the priests for different mass times not letting the congregation know in advance who would be saying what mass. (Bastards!)

The intro is over. We now move forward to the second segment of a Catholic mass, The Damnation. (Consisting of standing then sitting several times with a few Amens tossed in.)

The Damnation covers several rituals of the mass. The first being the evil look of the priest upon late comers attempting to sneak into the back of the church after mass had started. Usually these late comers would try to quickly blend in. Some would take the first available pew and stare straight ahead. Some would walk to the back of the church in the dimly lit part and stand. And some would walk in and immediately stop at random, and stay in that exact spot for the duration. Much like a deer being caught in the headlights of a pickup truck full of rednecks hunting for Thanksgiving Day dinner.

The second part of the damnation comes during the prayer and hymn sessions. (During this part, there are some rapid standing and sitting protocols.) You must learn to follow along. Otherwise, you are hopelessly lost. (Like Born Again Christians)

The priest would scan the congregation searching for parishioners not participating. When he spotted one not singing or saying the prayer loud enough, he would zero in on him/her, maintain eye contact until the entire congregation was looking at this poor soul, and then slowly but deliberately, shake his head back and forth in disgust. The unlucky soul would then be the talk of the morning during coffee and dough nuts after mass. You could bet he or she would be singing loud and proud next week damn it.

After Damnation, we move into the third segment, Fire And Brimstone. (Also known as the Gospel reading and sermon) Each Sunday, the priest would take to his pulpit and read aloud from the Gospel. He would pick a passage meant to inspire the congregation to be generous, forgiving, and to love God. (But mostly to be generous, especially during the collection plate pass around) (This segment involved only sitting for fear the priests words would make people pass out in fright and fall down.)

After the Gospel reading, the priest would offer his sermon to us all. (I would describe us as lambs being led to slaughter) The sermon was supposed to touch on the Gospel passage and how we in modern times, abide or deny the teachings of Christ.

Instead, we usually got the priest yelling at the congregation about the pitiful collection from last weeks masses. He would stress that the church needs even more money from us to continue doing God's work. (Didn't Jesus give away all his possessions) He would say those of us not giving at least 10% of our income should be ashamed to be Catholic and we better make it up in this week's collection lest the Lord look poorly upon us. (Apparently, the priest had a hot tip for the football game later that day)

The priest would then shift gears and drop it down into overdrive. His eyes would turn a golden brown and fire would come out of his mouth. (No, not really! But it sounded like it) At this point, the priest would rant and rave about how we, the congregation, need to help the church with more than just money donations. He would preach that there was plenty of work to be done around the school and church. He needed parents to volunteer for coaching, CCD class, hot lunch program, maintenance and repair of the church, rectory, and school. And the priests car.

All this time his hands would be very mobile waving them up and down and back and forth. Reminded me of a pizza maker, the way he would throw the dough in the air and spin it around. (If this priest thing didn't work out, Cornersburg Pizza shop could certainly use him)

It was now time for the Feast, segment 4, also known as communion time. (This segment involves standing, walking, kneeling, sitting, more standing, kneeling, and finally sitting.)

But first, we had to pay for the feast. The ushers would appear carrying felt covered baskets with very long handles and place it right under your nose and wait for you to open your wallet or purse and dump your cash into the basket. The ushers were very skilled at handling the baskets as never a dollar bill hit the floor. Once the baskets were full, the feast would begin.

Next, the priest and altar boys would huddle together with some secret handshakes and whispered incantations on the altar as gifts were exchanged and promises made. (I will explain all in a future update, I promise) A few bells rings signified that the feast was ready to be served. The ushers quickly came to the front of the church to prevent a stampede to the altar. (The food must really be good.) As the congregation filed up to the altar in perfect straight lines, hands folded, and without talking, it dawned on me why the Catholic nuns made us school kids practice forming lines every day. For the feast!

Finally, the Outro is upon us. (This segment involves sitting, then standing, and finally, walking or running out of the church to your car.)

The Outro is signaled by the lurkers in the back of the church edging towards the exit doors. Beating the traffic is a big part of Catholic mass. With only one road leaving the church, traffic backs up quickly. The priest asks the congregation to please rise, (Please, so now he's fucking polite, where was the politeness when he told us we were all going to hell for not putting enough money in the collection basket.) (I must confess, once I put an empty envelope in the collection basket and signed someone else's name to it. I am sure that family got the full frontal fire and brimstone from the happy betting priest)

Once the congregation were standing, the priest would say a quick prayer, make the sign of the cross and announce, "The mass is ended, you may go in peace." By the time the word peace was uttered, more than half the people were already battling each other in the parking lot.

There you have it. A typical Catholic mass explained. I know after you read this, you will all want to convert to Catholicism. Who would want to miss out on this action.

BTW, this was the 11:30 am mass. Next time, maybe you will get lucky and get the short version.

Short Version: Stand, Amen, sit, stand, Amen, sit, sit, stand, Amen, kneel, stand, form a line, walk, knell, sit, stand, leave. Salvation!

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LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

My First Holy Communion

I had just endured and survived my first holy Confession on Saturday: (Walk in single line into church on Saturday, sit in pews, wait for red light to go out, watch kid with freshly cleansed soul walk out, walk in confessional box, sit down, wait for priest, tell your sins, lie about a few of them, wait for absolution, get lecture, get absolution, finally, get penance, leave confessional, kneel in pews, say penance, leave church.) leaving me with a clean slate on my soul but not on My Permanent Record. Dare I say I was ready for the next phase of my catholic faith, my first holy communion.

Damn, (Say two Our Fathers and two Hail Mary's) I thought I was ready, but I found out there was actually a class for holy communion. And I had to study and there would be tests. Jesus Christ! (Say another 5 Our fathers and Five Hail Mary's for taking the Lord's name in vain) Seriously, how hard could it be. I have been dragged to church for several years and I did watch what the adults did when it was time for holy communion.

Stand up when it was your row's turn, fold your hands in prayer, get in line, walk up to the priest at the altar, open your mouth, stick your tongue out at the priest, (That was the great part) exchange some secret words, take the host on your tongue, close your mouth, say Amen, turn and walk back in line to your pew, kneel, and say a prayer. I had this down, I didn't need to take any stinking tests or read any books on first communion. I was ready dammit. (Close profanity word, just in case, say three Our Fathers and a sincere Act of Contrition)

Alas, the Nuns had other plans for us. For weeks, we practiced the above ritual. Getting in line, (Like we never had to get in line at school before, lines were our goddamn lives, (Yes, more Hail Mary's) we knew how to get in a line) walking up to the altar, simulating taking the host, and returning to our pews. We practiced day in and day out, took test after written test until we were ready. We even learned new church songs for this festive occasion. Let There Be Peace On Earth is the only song I can remember. Even back then, in second grade, the Nuns told me to sing the hymns very quietly so as to not take the rest of the class out of tune. (Fucking bitch nuns!) (Ten Hail Mary's, Ten Our Fathers)

That Sunday morning, I prepared for church, and being that it was my first communion, I wasn't allowed to eat anything an hour before church. Damn, (Two Hail Mary's, Two Our Fathers) I was screwed. I didn't have time to get dressed and eat breakfast. I went hungry. Instead of eating, I had to put on my new shoes, new dark blue navy pants, white shirt, and clip on blur navy tie. Even for church, I had to wear a goddamn uniform. (Just keep saying the Rosary for penance)

When we arrived at church, the nuns herded all the first communion kids into the back hall of the church. We were ready to demonstrate that after two months of practice, we could walk down the aisle in a single file line. (Very impressive. But you are not a Jedi Knight yet!)

A few minutes before the show got on the road, the nuns opened a small canister that contained the thin white wafer hosts. The nuns said these were un-blessed and were to be used as practice hosts. WTF! (A solid Act of Contrition please) Apparently, as the story went from the nuns, several years back, a first holy communion kid almost choked to death when he received his host from the priest because it stuck to the roof of his mouth and he panicked causing him to spit the body of Christ out of his mouth. Luckily, the altar boy caught the host with his paten (Plate) before the blessed host hit the ground.

Anyway, the nuns said we were to practice with these ones before we went live. Of course mine got caught on the roof of my mouth. I didn't spit it out though. I used my tongue to slowly move it and un-stick it from the roof of my mouth. (All you Catholics know exactly what I mean.)

A minute later, the main event was on. All of us slowly began our march up the church aisle hands folded in (Steeple prayer mode) and promptly took our place at the front of the church.

Thirty minutes later, it was our time. Ready to accept the body and blood of Christ for the first time. As I approached the altar and kneeled I made sure I didn't stumble or fall off the kneeler as I stayed perfectly still. The priest made his way down the altar like an assembly line worker. I could hear him saying over and over again, "The body of Christ," as if he were asking us a question not making a statement.

About two kids away, I thought about the body and blood of Christ and a moment of terror filled my mind. I forgot all about the "Blood" part. The bible story about Jesus changing water into wine popped into my head and I wondered if the practice water based host I had earlier would taste the same as the blood version. I was about to find out.

My turn was here. The priest approached me, whispered, "The body of Christ" and I correctly answered "Amen," opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue and received the host. I got up, returned to my pew, kneeled and said said my communion prayer.

I was now a full fledged Catholic. A member of the gang. I was wondering if I got to vote now on church hymns and Gospel passages. (I wasn't) Instead, I was treated to a first communion breakfast and afterward, I had a small family party, sort of like my birthday.

The next week, when communion time came, I strolled up with the rest of the adults, kneeled down and waited for the priest to come my way. Being the old pro I performed the ritual without a glitch. However, I was stuck at the kneeler. My right knee had slipped between the dividers and I was stuck. Damn! (Three Hail Mary's and three Our Fathers)

Using the railing I pushed with all my might and in doing so lost my balance and although I didn't hit the ground I looked like I was drunk doing the humpty dance trying to regain my balance. I got several snickers from the congregation and a death stare from my mother. Several nuns on the side also gave me the evil eye. Even out of school I was getting in trouble with the god damn nuns. (Five Hail Marys)

Next Sunday would be better. I swear!

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LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

First Confession

I have been asked by many non-Catholic friends just what goes on inside the wooden stalls (Confessionals) in the back of the church. Breaking Vatican II protocol rules and regulations, (Section 3:13, Verse 8, line 5 that clearly state all Catholics must never reveal the ritual of one on one confession to non believers) I am here to expose the exact secret ritual of confession and what a Catholic child went through in those torture chambers (Confessionals) in the 1960's.

On the first day of second grade, 1966, the Nuns gleefully announced that this year would be an exciting year for all us Catholic school kids for we were all going to be introduced to the holy sacraments of confession and holy communion. of course, there would be plenty of studying, quizzes, tests, and eraser zingers (Nuns zipping hidden erasers at children who were talking or being bad) before we would realize these goals.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months as our First Confession lessons dragged on. We learned about the different levels of sin, (Venial and Mortal) and how sin affected our souls and the ability to enter the kingdom of heaven when we died. However, these lessons were redundant for all Catholics, for since birth, we are taught in tedious repetition on all aspects of the Catholic faith. We know what sins we can safely commit to keep us out of Hell. We've all been around the block.

After months of intense study, I was ready for my first confession.
But certainly not my last...

The week before our first confession, we had several practices, (Simulations) to make sure we all had our opening line, prayer, and kneeling technique down. I was suspicious of this for the nuns played the part of the priest and there was no way in hell I was ever going to tell the nuns my sins. (Hell, they have been keeping a permanent record of all my sins since birth anyway, why give them any more ammo to use against me?)

It was now Saturday morning which I learned was confession day which really sucked for now I had to go to church two days out of the week. I wasn't liking that at all. I asked my older brother George for any tips or advice before I stepped into the confessional box "Live" for the first time. George told me to disguise my voice when I told him my sins so the priest wouldn't recognize it the next in class. He also said never to give the priest your name. If he asked, give him someone else's name.

I asked if that was a sin, lying to the priest while in the confessional wondering if perhaps the space time continuum vortex would somehow converse at my exact coordinates but i was put at ease when George said the priest would rarely ask a kids name. Only if you did something really bad like murder, rob a bank, or pull a nuns habit off.

We arrived at church and all the second graders filed into the back of the church, (Quietly of course) and took our assigned seats in the pews waiting our turn to confess our sins. I noticed we were sitting alphabetically. Damn, the nuns had set us all up. All the priest would have to do to find the identity of a particular bad kid is ask the nuns who was 8th in line and the nuns cold match it up with their seating chart.

The priests on call for the day walked into the back of the church, told us all good morning, said a little prayer, and with bible in hand proceeded to their side of the confessional. The priests opened the confessional doors and a little white light turned on signaling to all us sinners that he was ready. I noticed that the priest was in the middle and could take two sinners at a time, one on each side. The 1960's was certainly showing signs of progress.

A moment later, a nod from the nuns signaled the first sinner, (Second grader) to enter. Like lambs to a slaughter, the girl slowly moved toward the confessional, slowly opened it, walked in and closed the door behind her. A few seconds later, a little red light appeared on the confessional door. That signaled that the sinner had activated the kneeler and was occupied.

The sinner was only in there for a few minutes, and I timed her by repeating the Act of Contrition (A prayer to be said after the priest heard your sins) in my head over and over. Saying it slowly, the average time was 5 AOC's (Acts Of Contritions) per kid. Some kids took longer, and we all knew that meant they had plenty of sins to confess. And so did the anxious parents watching their children.

At last, it was my turn. Remembering my lessons drilled into me for 8 months I was confident as I walked toward the confessional. I opened the door and sat down activating the red light. (It was dark in the confessional as the only light source was from the screen where the priest talked to you from) A minute or two passed by as the priest was finishing up with the other sinner on the left and then I heard the screen slide open and I was up.

Every Catholic knows what comes next, the BMF prayer. (Bless Me Father prayer) It is the prayer the sinner begins every confession with. For you non-Catholics, here is the prayer. Bless me father for I have sinned, this is my first confession. (The next time you went to confession, you would simply change up this line to, Bless me Father for I have sinned, it has been one week since my last confession)

At this time, you were required to confess your sins. I remembered to speak in a whisper so as not to announce to those outside my sins. However, I forgot to disguise my voice as my brother George told me to. For my sins, I started with, I lied to my parents. I lied to my brothers and sisters. I was mean to people. I skipped church. I threw some dinner food away. i swore. I used the Lord's name in vain. I looked at smut. (Playboy Magazines) Then I fell silent as I awaited for the priest to deliver my penance.

Being it my first confession, I believe the priest went easy on me. He told me that I should reflect on my sins and avoid them by praying more and helping out more at the church. He then told me to say 3 Our Fathers and 3 Hail Mary's for penance. He finished with Go in peace.

It was time for my very first "Live" Act Of Contrition. The prayer we practiced all year just for this day.

Act Of Contrition (1966 Version)
O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee.
And I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven,
and the pains of hell;
But most of all because they offend Thee, my God,
Who are all good and deserving of all my love.
I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace,
to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life.
Amen.

I had done it. Survived my first confession. The walls of the church did not crack as my parents had told me they would. Nor did the priest gasp with hearing hearing me confess such hideous sins. I walked out of the confessional all smug, with a clean slate, no sins on my soul. If I were to die that exact instant, I would go straight to Heaven. I admit, it was a good feeling. However, a feeling that wouldn't last long. I walked back to my assigned seat, kneeled, and said my penance and then sat down.

The entire process took about two hours. After the last child finished his penance, the nuns gave us the signal to stand, and we filed out single file and joined up with our parents.

In the car ride home, I had questions as my paranoia set in. What if I forgot to confess a sin or not explain my sins correctly to the priest? Would I still go to hell because of a technicality? Or would my permanent record simply add this omission as another sin, the sin of lying, and to a priest to boot? The good feeling I had leaving the confessional had now turned sour as I hoped that Dad wouldn't crash the car on the way home and kill me and with a sin on my soul. Damn, I was damned. And damn, I just sinned by thinking damn. I started seeing a pattern here.

Once in confession, after a pretty good week, I told the priest that
I had been pretty good and didn't have any sins to confess. The priest said, Vanity was my sin for believing I was good. My penance was to say 10 Our Fathers and 1o Hail Marys and of course a sincere Act Of Contrition.

After that, I felt I had to make some sins up, to insure the priest didn't think I was to vain. But of course, that was the sin of lying, in a confessional no less, and had no way of breaking this vicious cycle because we had to go to confession every Saturday whether we needed to or not.

Hence, since we had to go to confession on Saturday, all us smart Catholic kids would do our sinning on Friday so we would only carry the sins for one day. It was the risk we dared to take.

And now that the sacrament of confession was completed, First Holy Communion was next. I was ready!

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LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL