Returning to Mass - Part III - Where does the money go?

Welcome to Recover Catholic... Our purpose is to help our fellow alcoholics and addicts.  We welcome Mom's, Dad's, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, friends and colleagues of loved ones afflicted by the disease of alcoholism and addiction to join us here and those suffering in all stages of the disease. 

To better understand and help those suffering and slowly dying in front of our eyes by this very cunning and baffling disease.  To hopefully add some encouragement, peace, knowledge and fellowship to the alcoholic and addict. New posts will be available every Sunday afternoon.

Welcome, Welcome, Welcome... Part III - The Usher and The Collection Basket

Mass is over...Abby and I make our way to the car amidst the crowd of good Catholics.  I expected question after question from Abby.  Abby was a very quiet, reserved young woman when I met her, one of the many qualities that were attractive to me.  She is still quiet and reserved to a certain extent, but only when other people are around.  When its just the two of us, you wouldn't believe she was the same person, it's nonstop, a mile a minute.  I start to drive off and nothing but silence on the whole ride home.  

After a while, at home, Abby breaks the silence, "Where does the money go?".

"What money?"

"The money that all the people at the church give and put in the basket"

"It goes to the church, what do you mean?"

She replied,"There were a lot of people that put in envelopes with checks in the basket.  The bulletin said that last weeks' collections were over $48,000".

"The Priest decides where it goes."

"Does it go to the Pope? It should go to a charity.  Why does the Priest get to decide and not the whole Parish? It doesn't seem right, there was no mention of where the money is going." She was getting worked up.  "How does he decide?"

"Ok, Listen.  Like most things in the Catholic Church, there's a tradition, a ritual involved in any important decision.  The Priest takes the all the money from the collection, takes it back into his sanctuary behind the altar, where only Priests are allowed.  Not many people, Catholics included,  know about this and I probably shouldn't be telling you.  The only reason I know is because I saw it by accident when I was a kid, while Jimmy O'Connor and I were serving mass at St. Mary's."

Abby was silent.

So, one day after Sunday mass, me and Jimmy started walking home after we served 6am Mass.  My parents would never get up that early to go to Mass, they usually went to 10:30 or Noon.  So we walked to and fro' every week so we could serve and do our duty.  I liked being a server, it gave me something to do other than daydream during Mass.  We get about a block away from St. Mary's and Jimmy starts rooting through his pockets, and then an "Oh S***!!  I forgot the two cigarettes I stole from my Dad's pack last night.  I was saving them so we could smoke them on the way home.  I must have left them in my cassock.  We have to go back, Father Don will kill me if he finds them, he'll know they are mine, I confessed to stealing cigarettes from my Dad last month."

We sneak back in through side door in the priests sanctuary.  Surely Father Don is long gone by now, having breakfast in the cafeteria with the Sisters of the Precious Blood, whose convent was across the street.  We creep down the long hall behind the door and silently open the door to the sanctuary.  Shocked, we see Father Don with his back to us and all of the money from the collection is spread out on a small altar before him.  He is saying a prayer in Latin, an old prayer, my translation is a little rusty..."Lord, I offer these gifts to you from all of your servants here at St. Mary's.  I shall throw this money up high into the air, Lord, whatever you need, please keep, and whatsoever you wish for me to have, let it fall back to the earth... 

  

Returning to Mass...Part II

Welcome to Recover Catholic... Our purpose is to help our fellow alcoholics and addicts.  We welcome Mom's, Dad's, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, friends and colleagues of loved ones afflicted by the disease of alcoholism and addiction to join us here and those suffering in all stages of the disease. 

To better understand and help those suffering and slowly dying in front of our eyes by this very cunning and baffling disease.  To hopefully add some encouragement, peace, knowledge and fellowship to the alcoholic and addict. New posts will be available every Sunday afternoon.

Welcome, Welcome, Welcome... Part II - The Usher and The Collection Basket

Our story continues, as Abby and I are attending Mass for the first time together, myself , being born into Catholicism, and Abby a lifelong, albeit non-practicing Baptist.  We are seated in the back row of the balcony, in the rear of the church, virtually alone.  I like to sit in the back with the "sinners", as it's more comfortable for me...

I suggest that we both just relax and soak it all in, and I will be more than happy to answer questions later.  Abby, as is her nature, has a million questions roaming around inside, I can see it in her eyes, as she tries to decide which ones are so important that she needs the answers right now.  She finally sorts them out and begins to whisper in my ear, when an usher with a basket appears from seemingly nowhere.  

The Usher, as they are very well trained to do in Rome, thrusts the basket in front of Abby, and holds it there for the perfect amount of guilt producing few seconds, unwavering and unashamed.  Even though she is obviously unsure and her face is turning red, the Usher stays strong, and adds an impatient glare.  The Usher training program in Rome is the envy of all other denominations and is often imitated, but never but never duplicated with this level of tenacity!  She looks at me in horror, not sure what to do.  

As most women of her generation, she never has any cash, only her debit/credit cards, and when the bill comes when we're out for dinner, she never seems to be able to find those.   Being a lifelong Catholic, I have my five dollar bill ready.  I have always felt five dollars is the right amount, not too much, not too little.  I often think of one of the first AA meetings I attended in Southern California, while in rehab, when the basket came around.  The chair of the meeting announced simply, if you have an extra dollar put it in, if you need a dollar, take one out.  This was a warm introduction for me of the attitude of  the kind souls in AA.  But, and I must emphasize, It is NOT the protocol here at Mass!  I would advise strongly against taking a dollar out of the basket.  I'm not sure what would happen, but I don't think it would have a pleasant ending.

I tell her not to worry, that the five dollars I put in will cover the cost of saving both of our souls.  She whispers to me after the usher has left, that the was one of the most embarrassing and uncomfortable moments of her life.  I tell her that is how you are supposed to feel when you don't have your money ready.  I also add the fact that since she has made it into recovery, this had to be far from her most embarrassing and uncomfortable moments...


More on our adventure next week...

Returning to Mass

Welcome to Recover Catholic... Our purpose is to help our fellow alcoholics and addicts.  We welcome Mom's, Dad's, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, friends and colleagues of loved ones afflicted by the disease of alcoholism and addiction to join us here and those suffering in all stages of the disease. 

To better understand and help those suffering and slowly dying in front of our eyes by this very cunning and baffling disease.  To hopefully add some encouragement, peace, knowledge and fellowship to the alcoholic and addict. New posts will be available every Sunday afternoon.

The Journey continues...  Against all advice of fellow AA members, counselors and the like, I met and fell in love with a young woman named Abby.  When I first met her, I knew there was something about her, something deep, a true connection.  And connect we did, during her final days of inpatient treatment and my first few days, we spent hours on the phone night after night.  Our relationship grew and blossomed, the heat of passion and the need for healing love, and also based on honesty and understanding. We shared morning meditation together, we pushed each other to work with our sponsors, go to meetings, learned and embraced recovery together.  

Abby came from a fairly strict and devout Baptist family, with strong beliefs inherited by her grandfather, a well known preacher, and her parents.  These strong beliefs dissipated over generations, with her parents marital problems going against the beliefs of the Baptist Church, and her own insecurities and distrust of organized religion furthered the distance.

Being of sound mind and armed with a fresh optimism about life only early sobriety can bring, I invited to her join me at mass one Sunday morning.  I feel that the best way to find comfort and a path to spiritual healing starts with actually going to church.  I wanted to try a new path, a new church, a different approach, but in the end, I felt I had never given Catholicism a chance and an honest effort on my part. I had not been to Mass by my own free will and with a desire for spiritual growth in 15 years. There is no need to reinvent the wheel, a lot of alcoholics always think we are different and smarter that the rest of the world.  If 70 million Catholics attend mass every week in this great country of ours, it's a great place to get started.  

We arrive just as Mass begins, Abby is very nervous, and so am I.  I feel I have to explain the mass and defend the Catholic Church.  

What I wasn't expecting was all of the questions about the basic practices in a Catholic Mass.  Being educated in the Catholic School system in my youth and attending mass on a regular basis up until the age of 17 or so, I always felt the rituals were probably somewhat similar in all churches.  I had never, with the exception of an occasional funeral or wedding attended a non-Catholic service.  

We sit not only in the last pew of the church, but the last pew on the balcony of this small older Catholic Church just west of St. Louis.  I don't think we could have been further from the action, but we were nearly alone in the balcony, which made both of us a little more comfortable.  As we took our seats, she whispered a question to me about the ushers...

"Who were the men at the door?"
Which men?  You mean the ushers?
"I guess, the ones who told us to sit up front..." Abby replied.
 They're ushers, they help you find a seat.
"I know what an usher does, I just don't know why they stand at the door and tell you where you have to sit." she said.
They aren't telling you, they are just helping, to keep the crowd moving.

As the Mass starts, she is looking curiously around the church, admiring the sheer beauty and age of the physical building, along with curious gaze at the Stations of the Cross, and finally notices the kneelers.  

"What are those for?"
To kneel on...
"Kneel??"
Yes, at certain parts of the mass you kneel...
"Why?  I don't know if I can kneel in front of anyone, it seems humiliating, I'm not kneeling in front of a Priest"
You're not kneeling in front of the Priest, you're kneeling in front of God.
"I don't like this and I don't want to be forced to kneel"
I said, "then don't, you're not Catholic, you don't have to, it's a sign of respect and praise before God, that's all.  There's no one around, and no reason to feel out of place, don't kneel"

Join us next Sunday for "The Usher Appears with the Collection Basket", and please subscribe to our posts via email, it's free...

Recover Catholic - Back in the Saddle Again...

Welcome to Recover Catholic... Our purpose is to help our fellow alcoholics and addicts.  We welcome Mom's, Dad's, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, friends and colleagues of loved ones afflicted by the disease of alcoholism and addiction to join us here and those suffering in all stages of the disease. 

To better understand and help those suffering and slowly dying in front of our eyes by this very cunning and baffling disease.  To hopefully add some encouragement, peace, knowledge and fellowship to the alcoholic and addict. New posts will be available every Sunday afternoon.

It was graduation day of my 30 day inpatient program, in my second stint in rehab in the same year.  There were no parties, celebrations, balloons.  That's usually reserved for first time rehab graduates, which are accompanied by many well meaning comments and congratulations from family and friends that are happy for you and the fact "you are better now"...

  It was 2009, and it was a good year, all things considered.  I had a clear head, a clean, honest sense of pure optimism, and I felt good.  I was 39 years old, divorced, a father of an 8 year old son, had made a fortune and lost a fortune, born Catholic, with a large Catholic Family and I was lost, I just didn't know it at the time.

I left that day with the clothes on my back, a few hundred dollars and against everyone's advice, a new younger girlfriend.  What happened to everything? All was lost while I was in the throes of my addiction, it was a horrible tragedy to me at the time, but today it doesn't matter.  It's rare that I think about any of it, I have been blessed by being released from all of it's burden. 

There are many things that finally get alcoholics into a rehab or an honest recovery.  Some say their family encouraged them to go, some say children, parents finally got through to them. In my case though, it's money that finally forced me into rehab.  I ran out of it...

I invite you to join me as I tell a tale of recovery, faith, love lost, found and lost again, hope, success, failure, ridicule, self destruction and redemption.  Subscribe via email, it's free or join us back here next Sunday.