Catholic Mass

Today was the most bizarre day I have ever had at Church. It started out fairly normal except for the monster poop (sorry non-moms) that my youngest girl had about 15 minutes into the homily. (I get to the bathroom just in time, and yes her clothes are ruined, and yes I need to throw them out they are so full of poop.) But we get cleaned up and back to our seats just in time for the last few minutes of the homily in which Father is telling the congregation that you never know when YOUR time is at hand.

The homily ends and all of the children are on their way back from Children’s church. My oldest daughter is among them. Just then a woman from the back of the church races to the front* and stops next to Mary Frances, patron of about 80 plus years old slumped in her chair. Someone behind her feels for a pulse. Then, Father asks if there is a doctor in the house.

*Catholics know that one never really moves quickly during the mass, or even gets out of one’s seat out of the blue such as this woman did…so instantly we all know there is something very wrong.

One of the choir members says to Father, “Should we keep all the children in Children’s church?” Everyone up front agrees that is probably for the best. My daughter, Natalie, is at the front of the returning pack, however, and is already back with me at her seat.

Although there is no doctor, there is a nurse, and she states that Mary Frances must be moved to the aisle to lie on her back. Nearby, a few men get up to assist with moving her to her back. A larger group begins to form around her as everyone wants to do something and no one can do anything. Father asks that everyone sit down other than the nurse and most people return to their seats. He then leads the congregation in a Hail Mary followed by an Our Father. Someone has the sense to call 911 from their cell phone. After the prayers, we mostly sit in silence. Natalie asks, “What’s wrong with her, Mommy?” I tell her that she is sick and doesn’t feel well. Caroline, the 20 month old, says, “Why sad mommy?” I’m crying.

We wait what seems like forever for the paramedics to arrive. At least five minutes have past and Father asks for the few men remaining next to Mary Frances to go back to their seats, that there is nothing more they can do now. One of the men starts to speak to Father…Father says, “Please go back to your seat”. Suddenly, what the man is saying becomes audible to the rest of us as he nearly doubles his volume and says angrily, “Why don’t we move her to the kitchen so that we can continue the mass?” And then, more whispering was followed by the same man’s next comment, “The needs of the many out ay the needs of the individual.” What ensues is a church equivalent of Jerry Springer as the other men standing near by begin to talk to him and then they all switch to speaking Spanish*** and then comes the man’s final comment, as he looks strait at Father Russo, “You people just want our money. This is crazy. I’m leaving.”

***I don’t speak enough Spanish to know what they were saying but it didn’t sound good.

The men essentially escort this individual out the back of the church speaking in Spanish a bit more on the way out.

Meanwhile, Father disappears to the back to call Mary Frances’ next of kin. He leaves his microphone on accidentally so we are able to hear that conversation.

The paramedics finally arrive. They put Mary Frances in a church chair and carry her from the building.

She passes her hand over her face.

She’s okay?

I know most everyone thought, including me, that up to that moment, she had passed. What a relief to see her hand move. It was kind of like when someone gets really really hurt in football and they bring the back board onto the field and strap down their head and he’s taken off in a cart. The crowd looks for any sign that he isn’t paralyzed. It was similar to that…but there is no way I can describe the feelings that were going on in the church during that time.



Unbelievable.