children Archives - Held By His Pierced Hands

Princess Saints Picture Book–Big Announcement!

UPDATE: This is still in the works but moving very slowly. Sorry!

If you’re a parent or a godparent, the most important thing you can do for your children is to introduce them to Jesus and help them learn to love him. But while you parents are the primary catechists of your children, you aren’t meant to do it alone, especially not in the midst of a hostile and noisy culture. With everything this world has to offer your kids, it’s no great surprise that most of them are drawn to licensed characters more than to the things of God.

I know dozens of little girls who love Elsa and Sofia the First and little boys who’d give their right arms to spend the day with lycra-clad superheroes or smiling trains. They hunger for heroes and long for stories of glory and beauty and triumph over evil. And all we give them is absent parents and petulant mermaids, vigilantes and vapid cartoons. We whose lives are fixed on the greatest story ever told, whose heritage is a host of heroes and heroines, we have forgotten how to tell stories and we settle for fictional heroes when the real ones leave even Atticus Finch and Samwise Gamgee coughing in their dust. And this Church of Dante and Michelangelo, having forgotten how to make sacred art, has even forgotten how to tell stories. It’s no wonder our children are drifting away–we aren’t proposing the Gospel to them as an adventure and a romance but as a dull board book with saccharine pictures. Most of us probably see it that way ourselves.

Now I’ve seen a few beautiful Christian children’s books, and even a handful that were both beautiful and interesting, but the majority I’ve encountered leave a lot to be desired. For years I’ve been lamenting the dull Saint books I’ve found, wondering how you can make a story as riveting as the life of St. Josephine Bakhita into something humdrum. So instead of reading the books, I tell the stories to children who stare, mouth agape, as they listen to the lives of the lovers of God. And I wonder why people don’t just write the books this way.

A few weeks ago I realized: I am people. I could write those books. And I have a friend who is a brilliant illustrator. Five hundred emails later, we’re working on a first draft.

This first book is going to be about Princess Saints. I figure most little girls love princesses. And since we have plenty of princesses who are far more worthy of emulation than even Belle or Anna, why not capitalize on it? When our little ones want to play dress-up, why not teach them virtues along with it? And our princess Saints are just as diverse as Disney’s. The book’s current cast of characters includes an archaeologist, a hermit, a philosopher, a nun, a mom, a head of state, and a social worker–talk about girl power! No waiting around to be rescued by some man here, unless you’re talking about the God-Man. There’s an Egyptian, a Byzantine, a Moor, an Ancient Roman, two eastern Europeans and a Western. Two converted from paganism, one from Islam. Four were virgins, three mothers. Only one martyr in this bunch, but plenty of white martyrdom.

The style of color will be like this. — The color will be like this, though the images will be more lifelike, as you’ll see below.

Lindsey and I have been researching like crazy to try to get the pictures right with the right clothes and races and architecture. We’re throwing in subtle Biblical imagery and allusions to other Saints, all in images that are even more striking than the ones on her blocks. Our hope is that the stories and the pictures are interesting enough that your children will begin to love these Saints the way they used to love imaginary heroes. We want them emulating St. Casilda instead of Jasmine, adventuring with St. Damien instead of Iron Man. And in each story, we’re trying above all else to show how the Saints point you to Jesus. So many Christian books tell the story and miss the point–we’re trying to avoid that.

Because these books aren’t just for your kids. They’re for you. I’m writing them in a way that reading them aloud will (hopefully) challenge you to reflect on your own life. Each story is teaching you how to love Jesus better and they’re all followed by some questions to discuss with your kids (or pray about on your own) about how you can better imitate these far-away Saints. I know a lot of parents whose only devotion time might be with their kids, and “Thank you God for flowers so sweet, thank you for the food we eat” isn’t making you a saint. My prayer is that these books will at least nudge you that direction.

So we want to share the first draft of one chapter of the princess book–with rough sketches that will be brought to life with watercolors. Read it (to yourself or to your kids) and if you’re still interested in this project, read on to see what you can do to help.

St. Catherine of Alexandria (November 25)

(280-305)

Princess Catherine loved to read. She had so many questions: where the world came from and why it existed and what her whole life was about–Catherine wanted to know everything. Lucky for her, she lived by the biggest library in the whole world where she could read all day long. She read so much that she didn’t have time for anything else. Not clothes, not friends, and not princes. That was all fine when she was little, but as she got older people began to talk. “She’s going to be our Queen!” they said. “And a Queen needs a King.” “Besides,” they said, “how are we supposed to get new princes and princesses if she doesn’t get married?” “That settles it!” they said. “Princess Catherine must marry.”

St Catherine in the library — This is what they think the Great Library in Alexandria looked like. And see those Egyptian symbols on the vase?

Catherine wasn’t interested in marriage, but she couldn’t exactly tell the whole country no. So she got a little tricky. “Oh, I’ll marry,” she said. “But I could never marry a man who didn’t deserve me. He must be richer than I and smarter than I and stronger and nobler and wiser than I. Much, much wiser.” Well, that was a tall order indeed! Catherine was rich and smart and strong and noble and the wisest woman in the land. Where could they ever find a prince who was good enough for her? Day after day, men came to seek her hand, and day after day she refused them. “Not handsome enough.” “Not kind enough.” “Not clever enough.” Until her people nearly despaired.

But one day, a hermit came to the castle gates. “I know a man who is stronger and kinder and better than any other man in the world,” he said, and the guards waited. “And he knows more than the most learned men,” he finished, and was led to the Princess. There, he told her about Jesus. Princess Catherine was a pagan, a person who worships false gods. In all the time she had been looking for truth she had never even heard of Jesus! The holy man told her that Jesus was King of heaven and earth, that He was merciful and loving and was the true answer to the question Catherine had been asking her whole life. Catherine knew then and there that she could marry nobody but Jesus. Away went her scrolls of history and science and philosophy and out came the Gospels and the writings of the Saints. The more she studied, the more the world made sense. Finally, she understood what her life was all about: to be loved and to love Him back. And the more she loved Jesus, the more she wanted to be His.

St Catherine and the hermit — That’s the woman at the well from John 4 and frogs from the Egyptian plagues. This one is obviously very unfinished.

With all her study, though, Catherine wasn’t ready yet. One night, she had a dream. The Virgin Mary, Queen of angels and Saints, took Catherine to her Son and offered her to Him as His bride! But Jesus took one look at her and said just what she’d said about all her suitors: “Not beautiful enough. Not kind enough. Not wise enough.”

Catherine was heartbroken! She sent for the hermit who had told her about Jesus to ask him what it meant. “My dear,” he answered, “You must be baptized and your sins washed away.” That very day she was baptized and that very night she dreamed again. This time, Jesus came to her as her bridegroom, putting a ring on her finger and making her His own. At last, Catherine had found a Prince worthy of her—and been made worthy of Him.

But Catherine’s people were not pleased. This was a long time ago, before people were allowed to be Christians, and they reported her to the Emperor. “Well,” he thought, “it must be a very silly religion to say that God could be a man. We’ll just have to show her how silly it is.” So the Emperor called the smartest men in the city to explain to Catherine that Jesus couldn’t possibly be God. One by one, fifty philosophers argued against Jesus and one by one fifty philosophers found themselves convinced by Catherine. One by one they cried out that Jesus is God, the Savior of the world, and one by one they were put to death for their faith, glorious martyrs given heavenly crowns.

You would think the Emperor would think twice once all the smartest men in the smartest city in the world turned to Jesus, but it just made him mad. He decided to punish Catherine for her faith by starving her. But angels fed the bride of Christ, and she came out twelve days later, stronger and healthier than she had been. The people were amazed by this miracle—so amazed that many of them became Christians, even the Empress!

The Emperor hadn’t been able to argue Catherine away from Jesus and he hadn’t been able to threaten her away from Jesus, so he made one last attempt to bribe her away from Jesus. “Marry me,” he said, “and be Empress of all of Rome.” “I belong to Jesus,” Catherine declared, “And will have no other groom.” Oh, the Emperor was furious at that! He ordered Catherine to be killed. And so the brilliant and beautiful bride of Christ, who had searched for truth and found Him, went home to heaven where she prays that all those who love truth will find Jesus, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

St Catherine the patron saint — I think she’ll be a little less stern in the final one, but doesn’t she look strong? That’s my kind of princess.

The End

When St. Catherine met Jesus, she wanted to learn everything she could about Him. What can you do to learn more about Jesus? How can you tell other people about His love?

Ask St. Catherine to pray for people who teach the faith, for people who seek the truth, and for all unmarried women.

“Deep waters cannot quench love, nor floods sweep it away. Were one to offer all he owns to purchase love, he would be roundly mocked.” (Song of Songs 8:7)

What do you think? Are you as excited about this as I am? And do you want to help support us? Obviously, what we need most is your support in prayer. Please pray for God’s will to be done in our work. All either of us wants is for people to love Jesus better because of these books.

Then there’s the material support. Because we’ve gone about as far as we can on our own. You see, I have all the time in the world–or rather, I can if I want to. But Lindsey has 5 young children, with 3 who are still home all day. If she wants to work on these illustrations, she needs a babysitter to give her some time. So if you feel led to make a donation to support the illustrations, you can do that here.

One of the most challenging thing about this whole business is our attempt to make the details as accurate as possible. So if you happen to be a historical expert (particularly on clothes and ethnic makeup), we sure could use your input.

Finally, we expect the hardest thing about all this will be finding a publisher. Neither of us has any desire to try to self-publish. We know too well how valuable a good publisher can be, especially in terms of guidance as to word count and page layout and all that. So if you know a Catholic children’s publisher and want to pass this along, that’d be amazing!

Thank you, thank you, thank you for all you do for the Kingdom! If I didn’t have such an incredible group of supporters (both online and in real life), I couldn’t do anything that I do and I certainly wouldn’t have dreamed this project could come to fruition. But I know you all are prayer warriors and I know that God’s Providence works through you. I’m so excited to see what God has planned for this project and I’m so glad you’ll all be coming along for the ride!

The Best Catholic Kids’ Present Ever

I am so excited.

I am a godmother to 5, all under 8. That means that at this point, my job mainly consists of praying and buying presents. I buy them a lot of books–my friend’s little girl once told her, “Godmothers are good at picking books,” since that’s about all I manage to do–but I don’t think books are enough. Don’t get me wrong, I adore books! But if you’re raising saints, you need to baptize their imagination, which means encouraging holy play as well as holy reading. I try for Saint dress-up clothes, but those are expensive. The Catholic toys tend to be equally expensive or rather disappointing. So we’re stuck with books.

Until now!

My friend Lindsey (who does my awesome headshots) is a brilliant artist and a Catholic mom of 5. She had the same trouble I had with finding Catholic toys, but she actually has the ability to do something about it. And she has! Introducing Blessing Blocks from AlmondRod Toys. (Follow them on Facebook!)

I’ve shown you the Nativity before and I still think it’s the loveliest children’s nativity I’ve seen. It’s not just not breakable, it’s also beautiful. But children’s Nativities aren’t too hard to come by and maybe you already have one (or six). So as much as I adore the Nativity, it’s not my new favorite thing. My new favorite thing? Saint blocks!

These little wooden blocks come with images of any of 60 different Saints. The images are beautifully painted with appropriate iconography. On the back, there’s the Saint’s name, feast day, and other info, including patronage, a short description, and a prayer or a quotation.

The other day, I brought my nieces and nephews some Saint blocks. Saints John Paul, Cecilia, Elizabeth Ann Seton, Clare, and Peter for John Paul, Cecilia, Elizabeth, Mary Claire, and Peter. They were thrilled. Seriously, they shrieked and squealed and played with them all day. They built towers of Saints and put them on block towers. Cecilia (age 3 1/2) brought hers to Mass and snuggled it the entire time. John Paul (5) wore cargo pants just so he had a good pocket to keep his in. Elizabeth and Mary Claire (2) kept begging to hold everybody else’s blocks. Only Peter (11 days) was fairly uninterested.

Peter's tender age didn't keep his siblings from showing him the blocks. Nor did it keep him from tasting them. — Peter’s tender age didn’t keep his siblings from showing him the blocks. Nor did it keep him from tasting them.

I’ve seen what happens when kids pick up these blocks: they’re hooked. The Saints become their best friends. They shriek with glee when they run across one of “their” Saints in a book or in the liturgy. They want to know their stories and to imitate them. I’m not telling you about these blocks because I want to help my friend make money. I’m telling you because I really think this kind of thing helps to form young saints. It makes virtue something tangible and gives them a real experience of the vast family they’re a part of. It wraps the Church inside joyful memories so that when they’ve run away, they’ll still think of her fondly and maybe make it back. When they’re playing, they’re asking the Saints’ intercession even without knowing it. AlmondRod Toys’ motto is “Sprouting Saints through Play” and I think that’s exactly what these blocks do.

On Thanksgiving, Cecilia (still clinging to her block) wrote St. Cecilia on her thankful turkey. "The Saint AND the block!" To be fair, she also wrote hermit crabs, which she's never seen, and crab, which she's never eaten. — On Thanksgiving, Cecilia (still clinging to her block) wrote St. Cecilia on her thankful turkey. “The Saint AND the block!” To be fair, she also wrote hermit crabs, which she’s never seen, and crab, which she’s never eaten….

And here’s the best part–you can afford them! They’re not the $25 peg dolls I find on Etsy–they’re 5 for $30.¹ Even if that seems steep for blocks, consider that it’s far and away the best on the market for a Saint toy.² If they don’t have the Saint you’re looking for, you can order one custom made or just wait a few weeks as Lindsey continues to add to the roster. She’s even thinking about putting the images on other things–8×10 prints, t-shirts, postcards–or just selling the electronic copies for you to use as you please. And if there’s any justice in this world, some publisher will recruit her to illustrate children’s Bibles and books about the Saints. We all know how many less-than-lovely Christian books out there, and it’s my life’s dream that Lindsey will have the opportunity to produce some really beautiful, meaningful ones to counterbalance them.³

So head on over to her shop and place an order quick–she makes all these blocks by hand and I’d bet money that she’ll sell out well before Christmas. Then get excited to watch your little ones fall in love with Christ through his Saints.

BONUS: For a limited time, you can get a free Saint block with any order! Just say a Hail Mary for the conversion of sinners and put the code KYRIE ELEISON into the notes section of the order form along with the name of the Saint you’re requesting from her list of options. Sweet deal–and you know you want to support the kind of woman who gives stuff away to people who pray for souls!

Up from $25 since she’s getting so many orders she’s having to contract out the sanding. Still a deal! [↩]
Really, if you find anything else in this category, please send it my way! [↩]
But seriously, if you connect her with a publisher, I’ll be your best friend. I really, really want to buy her books but I can’t do that until someone prints them. [↩]

How to Pray with Kids

Stacking his awesome Saint blocks is a quiet activity, but it's not quite the same thing as praying. — Stacking his awesome Saint blocks is a quiet activity, but it’s not quite the same thing as praying.

Praying with kids is not easy. No matter how often you threaten them, they still slouch and make funny faces and take off their pants during your family rosary. And somehow they don’t look forward to half an hour of being glared and hissed at: “God is LOVE! Now pray, dammit, or I’ll smack you in the face!” They’re distracted and distracting and most of us give up on our dreams of family prayer time early in our family life because they just won’t sit down and shut up. So we settle for a rushed Hail Mary as we tuck them in and hope that somehow they miraculously learn to talk to God–something many of us seem to have missed in our catechesis as well.

Now, I’m all for family rosaries and memorized prayers, but we run into trouble when that’s the extent of how we pray with our kids. They also need to learn how to talk to God and whether you’re comfortable praying out loud or not, you’re going to have to model extemporaneous prayer for them. Let me give you a window into what it looks like when I pray with little ones, using the ACTS pattern, a model that I’ve found helpful for kids as young as 2. It’s different every night, of course, but if you’re at a loss as to how to lead your kids in anything other than “Now I lay me down to sleep,” this might be something to try.¹

Jenna's kid. Jena's picture. Jenna's generosity in letting me use it. — Jenna‘s kid. Jenna’s picture. Jenna’s generosity in letting me use it.

Adoration: Start off by telling God how great he is. Sure, he already knows, but when we love someone, we want to praise him. And when we teach children to praise, we teach them to appreciate as well.

Me: Can you tell God how great he is?

Kid: God, you’re so great.

Me: What’s so great about God? (pause) What did God do that was so great?

Kid: He made all the children!²

Me: Very good! And can you tell him he’s great?

Kid: God, you’re so great because you made all the children.

Me: Nice work. What else?

Kid: Um…God, you’re so great because you were born in Bethlehem and you turned water into wine. God, you’re so great because you died to save me! God, you’re so great because you made me beautiful.³

Me: Good.⁴ My turn. God, you are so good to us. You love us even when we don’t deserve it. You forgive us no matter what. Please help us to love and forgive each other.

You’ll notice that I take what they’re doing and elevate it a little while keeping the language simple. It’s hard for kids to think about God’s more abstract qualities, for example, so I try to focus my prayer on mercy and wisdom. I also don’t force myself to stick with adoration but let it slide a little bit into petition. I think this helps kids learn that prayer doesn’t have to be so scripted.

Contrition: This part of your prayer time can serve as a little examination of conscience for you and your kids. It’s an incredibly important exercise in the Christian life and getting them started early with the idea of a daily examination is a great gift. It also teaches us to humble ourselves before the Lord and recognize our weakness in the presence of his greatness.

Me: Now can you tell God you’re sorry for something bad you did today?

Kid: God, I’m sorry I did something bad.

Me: What did you do that was bad?

Kid: I told a lie.

Me: Okay, tell God you’re sorry for that.

Kid: God, I’m sorry for telling a lie. And I’m sorry for roaring at my brother and not eating my dinner and throwing my truck and not listening to mommy.⁵

Me: God, I’m sorry that I lost my temper when we were at the playground today. I want to be gentle and patient. Please help me to be more like you.

I don’t know that there’s anything more powerful to a child than watching her parents submitting in contrition and humility. It shows them that you’re human and also that messing up doesn’t make you bad. And it reminds them that God is mercy. That might be a memory that they badly need down the road.

Thanksgiving: Kids are great at this. They’ll thank God for things for days if you let them. This is one type of prayer where I think adults have less to teach and more to learn. Let them roll with it and see where it goes.

Me: What’s something wonderful that happened to you today that you want to thank God for?

Kid: Thank you God that I didn’t eat spicy cheese and that Elizabeth took the diaper off the baby doll.

Me:…okay. What else are you thankful for?

Kid: What else?

Me: Just thank God for anything you like. People or things that happened or your favorite things. God gave you all those things!

Kid: Thank you God for we wish we had a kitty cat.

Me: Okay. What are some things you already have or have done that you can thank God for?

Kid: Thank you God for hot dogs and my friends at school and my Mom and Aslan and bug spray! And thank you God that I didn’t fall off the jungle gym. And thank you for my sister and my other sister and for Peg plus Cat because I love that show.

Me: And thank you God for giving us a family that loves us and for teaching us to love you. Thank you for my prayer time earlier and please forgive me for getting so distracted. Thank you for all the ways you show us your love, especially good weather and delicious food.

Listen to the little things they’re thankful for and try to be as grateful as your kids.

Supplication:⁶ Here’s where they get to ask God for things. I usually start with specific things, working toward the abstract and ending with “God blesses.” It’s good for them to know that God blesses us in many ways and that it’s okay to ask him for silly little things but it’s also important to ask for big things.

Me: And now what do you want to ask God for?

Kid: What?

Me: Well, what’s something you’d like to do tomorrow?

Kid: God, may I please have some grapes tomorrow?

Me: Good. Is there anything you want God to help you be?

Kid: God, please help me be…a seminarian, a deacon, and a priest!⁷

Me: That’s a great thing to pray for. Would you like to ask God to help you be kind and patient, too?

Kid: Yes, kind and patient and really good at soccer.

Me: And do you want to pray for anyone else?

Kid: Dear God, please bless all unborn babies with diligence.⁸ And please bless Mom and Dad and my brothers and sisters and all my cousins and Father Sullivan and….

Me: Father, please help me to be obedient to you, to open my heart to you and let you lead me. Please help everybody who is suffering because they love you and bless everyone who is lonely tonight.

This can also be a time to tell your kids about people who are suffering and pray together for them. I can be pretty bad at intercessory prayer, but when I ask little kids to pray for someone, they remember for months and just keep on praying. You may forget to pray for persecuted minorities in Iraq, but you’d better believe your little boy is going to want to pray for the children on the mountain who are surrounded by bad guys. It’s just another way that family makes us holy: keeping us in prayer for things we’d let our cushy lives push out of our consciousness.

Formal prayer: At this point, I ask kids to pick a favorite memorized prayer and we recite that together. Then we go into a litany of Saints where they call out all their favorites and we chorus, “Pray for us.” Finally we end with the Sign of the Cross.

It’s not quick, this approach, nor is it always the most reverent way to pray. There are lots of interruptions and reminders to stay on track. I often have to stop to define words or correct kids who see prayer time as an opportunity to be silly. But it’s simple and honest, a genuine conversation with God that’s open to the Spirit but guided by parameters. I think it teaches kids to talk to God like he’s a person–which he is.⁹ I think it also gives them a sense that prayer is more than just asking for things. It might not fit into your bedtime routine every night, especially if you have several kids. But at least on Sundays, make the time to be vulnerable and pray extemporaneously with your kids. If you’re anything like me, it’ll be good for your prayer life, too.

Every weird thing in here has actually come out of the mouth of a child I was praying with. If nothing else, try this for the great stories you’ll end up with. [↩]
Probably 75% of kids I pray with are most excited that God made children. [↩]
This last one was my niece the other night. I’m so excited that she still thinks she’s beautiful, I won’t even call her on pride masquerading as prayer. [↩]
Clearly I’m not of the school of thought that objects to praising kids. [↩]
Some kids really get into this. It’s awesome. But no fair punishing a kid for a minor infraction that you found out about during prayer. [↩]
If you’re teaching them the acronym ACTS, supplication might throw them for a loop. Try Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Someone or Something. Really, though, the acronym is more for you. [↩]
This was my nephew. My heart exploded. [↩]
Also my nephew. Not sure what he was going for there. [↩]
Well, 3 persons. [↩]

A Fly on the Wall

I got to spend a few weeks in June around my sister‘s awesome kids. I thought y’all might enjoy some of the theological conversations we had. And before you ask why they’re so awesome, here’s the best I can tell: the adults they know talk frequently and very enthusiastically about holy things–to them and to each other–and they’ve picked up on it.

Playing the Annunciation. Because what else would you do?

Cecilia (3 1/2): How can you be a saint and a nun?
Me: Oh, lots of Saints were nuns. St. Therese, St. Teresa, St. Catherine Laboure, St. Claire…. To be a saint, you just have to love God and try your best to do what he wants you to do.
John Paul (almost 5): And I like St. Cecilia.
Cecilia: Saint Cecilia? Am I a saint already?!?
Me: Not yet, honey.
Cecilia: Why not?
Me: Well, because you’re not dead yet.
Cecilia: And why not?
Me: I guess because God has work he still wants you to do.
Cecilia: And if I die when I’m a child, I can still be a saint.
John Paul: Like Blessed Imelda!

How to get your kids excited about Saints: read them lots of Saint books, get them Saint costumes to play dress-up in, and suggest with wild excitement that we pretend to be Saints. You should see how excited they are when I ask if they want to play the martyrdom of St. Ignatius of Antioch.

Cecilia (rather upset that Jesus has ascended): Why doesn’t Jesus come back down from heaven?
Me: I don’t know, Cecilia. Do you wish he would?
Cecilia: YES!
Me: Well there’s a great prayer for that. Maranatha. It means, “Come, Lord Jesus!”
Cecilia and John Paul: MARANATHA!!

I’m with them. Come back, dear Jesus, and heal our broken world!

John Paul, an hour in to a 3 hour ordination: It’s the prayer of ordination! (a few minutes later) AND NOW THEY ARE PRIESTS!! My turn!
(tries to push past me toward the aisle)
Me: No, buddy, you can’t be a priest yet.
John Paul, beginning to cry: Why not?
Me: Because you’re not old enough.
John Paul: I AM old enough!
Me: How about when we get home I’ll show you in the Code of Canon Law? Would that make you feel better? In Latin and English?
John Paul, sniffling: Yeah.

It runs in the family. I was once so upset after a football game that the only thing that could cheer me up was stopping at the library to read through a commentary on the Code.

Look at the awe in his face! — Look at how excited he is for his blessing!

Me, during the same ordination: John Paul, the bishop is getting Fr. Chris’s blessing. And after Mass, you will be able to get Fr. Chris’s blessing! And then you will hold out your hands and he will put his hands in them and you will kiss them.
John Paul: Why?
Me: Because they aren’t his hands anymore. They’re Jesus’ hands.
John Paul: Jesus’ hands!! Why are they Jesus’ hands?
Me: Because they were consecrated to celebrate the Sacraments. To say Mass and give absolution and anoint people.
John Paul: And to consecrate the Eucharist.
(later, holding Fr. Chris’ hands) *Gasp* These are Jesus’ hands! (Kisses them reverently)

Many new priests don’t expect you to kiss their hands, but I think it’s one of the most beautiful traditions in our Church. In any other circumstances, it would be wildly inappropriate for me to kiss a priest, but here I’m humbling myself in reverence to the God who works through his priests.

John Paul (reading the back of my shirt): I’m a Catholic. Ask me a question!
Me (playing along and asking him one of the most common): Okay, why do you have to go to Mass every Sunday?
John Paul (clearly distraught): Oh! Because I love Jesus!

It really is that simple. Maybe I should stop with commandments and canon law and go with this: we go to Mass because we love him and we’re trying to love him better.

Lady Victory standing on a corpse saying: Thus always to tyrants! Virginia is so BA. — Lady Victory standing on a corpse saying: “Thus always to tyrants!” Virginia is so BA.

Me, explaining the intense Virginia flag and, thus, what a tyrant is: A tyrant is someone who takes away your freedom. And the greatest tyrant is Satan because he tricks you into becoming a slave to sin.
Cecilia (disdainfully): Um, Satan has no power now.
Me: Why not?
Cecilia (a little condescendingly): Because Jesus died to save us from our sins!

I had to think about this one. I think she’s wrong that he has no power, but the nature of the power he has is different. Before the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ, he had power by the very nature of things. Now he only has the power that we give him by our sin. I think. Is it ridiculous that her theological conclusions have given me so much to think about?

Your Screaming Kids Are Distracting Me

I was at a holy hour the other night, totally focused and immersed in my thoughts, when from the back of the church came the sound of a wailing toddler. Just like that, I lost it. I was completely distracted by some kid who was far too young to be stuck sitting in a church.

And thank God for that.

See, I was totally focused on planning the rest of my night. I was coming up with a packing list and deciding which posts I could update before I headed out in the morning. I was thinking about the songs I have on my new smartphone and wondering if the USPS would forward the package I had shipped to the house I was staying at in time for me to get it at the house I was staying at next. Yeah, I was focused, all right. Focused on me.

Then that kid started screaming, and I snapped out of it. I heard the dulcet tones of a toddler tantrum and couldn’t help but thank God for the luxury of silent prayer. I heard footsteps and a door opening and offered a prayer for the patience of that poor parent. I prayed for those who were really angry about the disturbance. I prayed in thanksgiving for the gift of life.

Parents, I know all too well the frustration of taking little ones to Mass. I calculated this evening (when I should have been praying) that I’ve taken little ones 4 and under to Mass by myself at least 200 times. So while I’m not a parent, I know the frustration and awkwardness and even shame of that experience.

Case in point: John Paul isn’t so great at first person pronouns. He refers to himself as “you.” This was great when he was potty training and announced at the top of his lungs during the Eucharistic prayer, “You awe weawing undewweaw!!” There were definitely panty line checks all around the sanctuary.

I’ve gotten plenty of dirty looks. But more often, by God’s grace, I’ve gotten affirmation. People thank me for bringing “my” kids and compliment me on their behavior. Once after John Paul threw a particularly loud fit at Mass, an elderly man came up to me and told me it was the holiest sound he’d heard all day. “He reminded me that I’m alive,” he said with a smile.

But more often than not you don’t notice the smiles. You notice the rolled eyes and raised eyebrows and dirty looks and you think that at best you’re not making anyone angry. But that’s not true–at best, you’re making the people around you saints. You’re pulling them out of their self-obsession and reminding them that being at Church is about emptying ourselves for God and each other.

Prayer is so often just a veil for narcissism. We talk and talk and talk about ourselves and then slap an “Amen” on the end and consider ourselves holy. When your kids start screaming, it distracts us from ourselves. We start praying for you. Or for them. We pray for single parents. We pray in thanksgiving for our grown children or we beg for screaming children of our own.

I was visiting with my grandmother the other day and mentioned that Cecilia shouted stream-of-consciousness for the entire Mass today. She said, “Oh, do they let children in the church?” Needless to say, she’s not Catholic. But it’s an attitude I’ve found from some Catholics. “Until they’re old enough to sit quietly,” they say, “leave them at home.” Or maybe “You know there’s a cry room, right?” As if the Mass is their personal property and they get to decide who stays and who goes.

Jesus embraced children, folks, and so does our Church. If you don’t want to hear them cry, the solution is not to remove the holy little ones from the church. The solution is for you to go to the 7am quickie Mass or the solemn high Mass that takes 3 hours. Find a Mass kids aren’t going to and shut yourself up in that one.

Or maybe offer up your distractions and frustrations for their parents, who are so much more distracted and frustrated than you. Take this as a sign that God is calling you out of yourself.

Easily distracted — Ooh look at her shoes! I wonder how many states have more vowels than consonants. How far is it from here to Maine? I should make a pie this afternoon. 3.14159. What would I even do with a giant mouse suit?

Because if the normal noises of normal children are going to distract me, I was going to be distracted anyway. By cute clothes or cute men or split ends or whatever¹. And nobody’s suggesting that we wear burqas to Mass or segregate our congregations or require frequent trims. Unlike most of the thoughts that grab my easily-distracted mind, the screams of your children are a distraction that draw me to deeper prayer.

So take them to the cry room if you want–or stay in the pew. Lord knows that at many churches if you’re in the cry room you’re practically not at Mass, it’s such a circus in there. Keep them as quiet as you can however you want to–I won’t judge. They’re going to be ridiculous and you’re gong to be embarrassed, but taking them to Mass gives them grace, earns you years off of purgatory, and breaks my hardened heart just a little bit.

On behalf of those of us who don’t understand the sacrifices you make to bring your kids to the wedding feast, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for judging you and being annoyed at you and rolling my eyes and everything else that focuses on me instead of on us. Your kids are a very important part of us, even–especially–when they won’t stop yelling.

Because yes, your kids are distracting me. They’re distracting me from my narcissism. They’re distracting me from the idol I’ve made of worship, making me encounter God as he really is, not as I want him to be. They’re distracting me from the endless series of irrelevant thoughts that occupy my “praying” mind.

Your screaming kids are distracting me. Thank you for that.

I’m not kidding. I seriously examine my hair for split ends during the penitential rite. Really, your toddler is the least of my spiritual worries [↩]