My Christmas Eve Adventure, or maybe “Misadventure!”
Although I do it privately (except in my writings), I am very serious about my Christian faith and prayer. It is never my intent to make fun of or disrespect them in any way. In fact, in most of my writings, I not only acknowledge and revere God and prayer, but in my own way, I use my writing to promote God and prayer in all of my books. But none more so than in Jean’s Heroic Journey, where I invoke God’s name and mention prayer and praying, no less than 75-80 times throughout the book.
Now, having said that, I have no reservation about laughing at myself and my own multiple shortcomings, even when they occur in a Holy Church setting on Christmas Eve! I believe God has a sense of humor and wants us to, also.
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I am a faithful Christmas and Easter churchgoer. I rarely miss either of those days. I was raised as a Presbyterian. However, I now attend the Catholic Church semiannually with my family.
This year, Dee and I went to the 4:00 mass with her sister and her husband. It’s obviously apparent that there are a ton of other people like me who never miss their semi-annual church visit because the pews fill up early. Dee went at 3:00, and I arrived at 3:30 to be sure to get a good seat, or any seat. Soon afterward, there was standing room only. This particular church is fairly large, with probably around a 1000-person capacity.
For someone like me, that’s a lot of people to be around! Everyone who knows me knows that I am not a social person. In fact, I avoid almost all public outings and all crowds. In my mind, a crowd is more than one! I don’t try to hide it, and I acknowledge the character flaw. That’s just the way it is and the way I am.
That is one of the reasons I always pick a seat near the back of the church and an end seat as well, so that the only person sitting beside me is Dee, who loves to socialize and talk to other people. Thus, unknowingly shielding me from all of them as I look the other way!
Now, just imagine my surprise when a woman comes walking down the aisle and stops, leans over, and looks right into my face and energetically says, “Hi! How are you?”
Oh shit! Who is this woman? I bet I’m supposed to know her. But I have no clue who she is, as I respond, “Fine, thanks.”
Dee had her back turned, talking to her sister and others as she heard the woman and looked over and said, “Oh, Hi, nice to see you again!” Whew! I leaned back out of their way so they could talk. I thought I was off the hook when the woman turned back into my face again, looked me in the eyes, and asked me, “Would you like to carry and present the gifts to the Altar?” I was stunned, to say the least, and had to think for a minute, What gifts? Then I noticed her waving motion to the table that the communion wine and hosts were sitting on.
I was thinking, WHAT!! Is she crazy? But I composed myself from the sudden shock. I don’t think I exactly said the word “No,” but I’m sure I was shaking my head back and forth as I exclaimed, “I can’t do that, I’m not even Catholic!” Knowing that would be the end of that conversation. The woman whom I now saw was wearing a gold emblem on her jacket lapel that read “Usher,” turned and looked at Dee, who quickly apologized and reiterated, “Sorry, he’s not Catholic.”
The usher then said to Dee, “Okay, what about you and your sister? Would you two like to do it?” I was thinking, YES! I’m out! They’re in!
Dee said, “OH, sure, okay, let me ask Sis.” I knew my Catholic wife would be thrilled to do it. But a few seconds later, she turned back to the usher and said, “Sorry, she doesn’t think she is stable enough to walk that far without incident.” I was kind of disappointed for Dee, but I thought to myself, Okay, that’s that. The usher will move on to someone else. Then she turned back to me, right in my face again, and explained, “All you do is just carry the gifts to the Altar and then bow to the priest.”
“And then just hand the gifts to him?” I asked.
She replied, “Yes, that’s right.”
I thought about it for a minute. Okay, she was told twice that I am not a Catholic, and I sort of said “No” once. I probably shouldn’t say “No” to God again! So, I said, “Okay, we can do that!” The usher smiled big.
I only wish I had eyes in the back of my head at that moment to see the reaction on Dee’s face. I didn’t hear her hit the floor from fainting, so I guessed she didn’t and was okay. I turned around and saw her wide eyes and nervous smile as she excitedly turned to tell her sister, “He said, Yes! We’re gonna do it!” Sis replied, “Ohhh Man…. Wow! This is gonna be one (story) for the centuries!”
I was surprised at how calm I was until I had a quick burst of heart palpitations and a sudden rise in blood pressure when I realized and said to Dee. “There’s a problem. I don’t know when we are supposed to do this. The usher didn’t tell me when we’re supposed to go.”
Dee replied confidently, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’ll know when it’s time. I’ll tell you when it’s time to go.” I calmed right back down after that, reassured, and remained surprisingly mellow and relaxed throughout the mass, knowing that Dee attends weekly, every Sunday, and knows the routine well.
I guess it was halfway, maybe three-quarters of the way through the mass, when the series of ushers began their cadence march down the aisles, carrying the long-poled collection baskets like good soldiers. The long handles would allow them to reach out to the people in the center of the pews. As the head usher passed by me, she leaned over and whispered, “Wait until the priest comes down the steps, and then you go.” I nodded. The ushers stood in a line at the Altar, waiting for their blessings, I guessed, before methodically working their way back up the aisle, collecting.
I was just looking around the church, kind of dazed, waiting for Dee to say, “Okay, it’s time, let’s go!” But she didn’t say anything. I looked back to the front of the church and saw that the priest had left the Altar and was standing on the steps, looking around. I leaned over to Dee and whispered, “He’s on the steps.”
She looked like she was in a fog when she asked me, “Do you think it’s time to go?” I could have passed out! But I controlled myself and didn’t throw my hands up in the air… “You’re the one who is supposed to know!” I just curtly said, “I don’t know, but he’s standing at the steps.”
She said, “I can’t see him,” as she leaned over to peek down the aisle, and then said, “Okay, he’s standing on the steps, I guess we should go.” I knew she had no clue and was as nervous as a bird!
The whole church was either sitting or kneeling as I stood up and stepped out into the center aisle. I waited for Dee to stand beside me, and then we approached the “gifts” table that was in the center of the aisle, just a few feet in front of us. She picked up the wine, and I picked up the bowl of bread. (I think they call them hosts, but I’m not really sure. Remember, I’m not Catholic.) But I do know one thing for sure: 1000 people were watching us!
Now, as the father of three brides, I know how to walk down “the aisle.” You do it slowly, but deliberately, with a reverent purpose. However, somehow Dee didn’t get that message. She bolted down the aisle as if we were late for the appointment!
In the meantime, on my side of the aisle, there were three or four ushers who were extending six-foot-long handled collection baskets in and out of the pews, which I had to pause for and dodge as if I were running a gauntlet. The last thing I needed was for one of the handles to spear God’s bowl of “hosts” and spill a thousand pieces of communion bread all over the church floor on Christmas Eve.
It didn’t take long before Dee realized that she was ahead of me. She looked back and then stopped and waited for me to catch up. After that, we walked side by side the rest of the way up to the priest, who was standing there at the bottom of the steps waiting for us. We both bowed. He took our gifts, and as I started to turn for the return journey back down the aisle that had a thousand people watching, the priest began speaking to us. So, I stopped and listened, but I’m not sure exactly what he said. I think it was just pleasantries… something like “wishing you and your family…..” stuff like that. Maybe he blessed us, too. I don’t know, I was focused on the safe return trip back to our pew. Dee said. “Thank you, Father.” I followed her lead and also said thank you. Dee said Merry Christmas to him. I once again followed her lead and said Merry Christmas. I’m happy to report that the stroll back to our seats was uneventful.
As we sat down in the pew, I asked Dee, “Was that your first time?”
“Yes!” She replied.
“Was for me too!” I stated.
She laughed knowingly.
On the drive home after the mass, Dee confessed that she was so nervous that her mind blanked out. Looking back on it, I never looked to see if the priest stepped down those two steps or not, as the usher instructed me to do. So obviously I kind of blanked too! I think we left our pew too early, and he probably would have stepped down after the ushers passed the gift table. But I’m still not sure.
Regardless, it was a real trip, man! And honestly, I feel honored that somehow, for some reason, out of one thousand people at a Christmas Eve mass, they picked us! Now that’s something to write about. (And so I did.) Dee certainly deserves that honor. She’s earned it. But me?! Basically, a stranger who knows no one there and is a non-Catholic! Gotta be something higher up to that… right?
It still amazes me that in more than seventy years of being a Catholic, this was the first time Dee was ever asked to carry the “Gifts.” I am extremely grateful that God gave me the opportunity to be there with her.
Merry Christmas and may God’s grace be with you.
Robert Kuhn 