A friend drew my attention to a pastor’s
weekly missive in the parish bulletin in a parish far, far away. She said:
This past Sunday’s article is
about someone who said something about a woman wearing inappropriate clothing
to Mass. This “someone” was accused of being uncharitable and unwelcoming.
Well, the uncharitable person
was me, and the woman I spoke to was wearing short-short jean hip-hugger shorts
with really ragged “cuffs”. They were so tight, the back seam was you-know-where.
The hip huggers were more like “plumbers’ pants” (get the picture).
This is at a parish that another correspondent has writtenabout, decrying the inappropriate dress that abounds there. Apparently the
pastor doesn’t address the issue…
Well, actually, he does – via his bulletin article, which
says in part:
Once upon a time a woman, who
was on a long journey that had taken her away from practicing her faith,
returned to the church to pray. This journey was not an easy one. There were so
many fears and anxieties, plus so many years of accumulated baggage. But
setting down her burdens, she opened herself up to receive the sign of peace
being offered among those praying with her. With her guard down, she was
unprepared when she turned to wish her neighbor the sign of peace and was
verbally beaten up by this other woman. Instead of being wished the peace of
Christ, she was victimized as she was very publically criticized for what this
other woman considered to be “immodest” apparel.
So the traveler took up her burdens
again as she started to leave the church. A couple took her arm, and stopped
her before she exited the pew. They had seen what had happened, and their faces
showed the shame and embarrassment they were feeling. They tried to soothe her
fresh wounds and to console her with an apology, but she held tight to her
baggage, and left. Which of these, in your opinion, was neighbor to this woman?
Puh-lease. Sure, maybe my friend could have chosen a better
time to let the woman know that her dress was inappropriate, and I do not know
the exact words she chose. But I will tell you this: a sign on the church door
suggesting what “modest” apparel might consist of could certainly be helpful.
And maybe if people started talking about modesty, we could
start a return to modest dress in our society. After a recent airplane trip,
one friend told me, “I hadn’t realized how tight women’s jeans are these days.”
Yeah. That. Why wear anything?!
A recent FaceBook status I noticed pictured a young lady who
was quite a bit overweight, squeezed into the teeniest pair of cut-off shorts
she could manage. It was quite a sight to behold, and my friend suggested that “if
you have a figure that looks like this” you should reconsider what you wear in
public. But the truth is, that pair of cut-offs was immodest, and would have
been immodest on a slender girl who actually fit into them. Some would have
applauded her “beauty”, but really, much of what passes for acceptable dress in
today’s society is actually an occasion of sin for many of the beholders.
Back to my friend’s story about the inappropriately dressed
woman at Mass…and the pastor’s missive in the bulletin. He was addressing that
week’s Gospel, which was of course the “good neighbor” verses. Here’s another
section of his article:
Maybe we can find the answers
in the parable that Jesus told in today’s Gospel. Like the priest, could our
overly exalted and self-appointed position as “Liturgy Police,” or our
exaggeratedly coveted status as being “holier than thou,” be blocking our
responding to others with love?
Like the Levite, could we be
allowing an intolerant legalism to block the mercy God put into our hearts from
being shared with others? Or has our heart just become so hardened, atrophied from
lack of use that like the robbers, there is no love left to share—just
intolerance and abuse?

Those who take this point of view show very little charity
toward those who are offended by bad liturgy and bad dress. Those “liturgy
police” types are just supposed to get over it. But in some cases, “getting over it” is not
charity, or love of neighbor. Sometimes people need to be told that what they
are doing is wrong.
Funny thing, too; the people who desire liturgical abuse are seldom told to “get over it”. Instead,
they are pandered to. Why is that?! It is something I have never understood,
even if you throw the weekly collection into the equation.
And why does this pastor not see how “mean” he is being to
the poor woman who was offended by cleavage, bare shoulders, and plumber’s
pants? Why is it wrong to be offended by such things, especially at Mass? What
would a “good neighbor” (or good shepherd) have done in such a situation? Might
he have spoken privately to the “holier than thou” parishioner, perhaps, if he
really thought she had done something so egregiously wrong that other parishioners
were feeling “shame and embarrassment”?
My friend noted in her email to me:
The only thing I commented on
was the shorts; I kept my mouth shut about her spaghetti strap top with
plunging neckline and bra showing. I think luckily she was in front of me and
not an impressionable man who might have been led to lustful thoughts---at
Mass. I guess we truly are in the “Church of Nice” as Michael Voris puts it
where everything and anything goes.
Exactly.
But the next
week, the same pastor continued the harangue on my friend. This time he
said:
“I just finished reading your
page. I'm stunned!” This was an e-mail response to my Reflections in last week’s
Church Bulletin. I actually found that message encouraging. This means the
inappropriate way a parishioner treated a visitor was an exception and not the
norm. Let us not forget that the greater majority of
our parishioners are good
neighbors who are kind to the strangers who join us at Mass. May the thoughtful
and loving way these parishioners relate to others bring blessings upon us and
our parish as the kindness of Abraham to strangers brought blessings to him and
his wife, Sarah.
So,
that mean ol’ parishioner is just an isolated blight on the landscape, eh? How’s
that for charity! Since the vast majority of his parishioners are “good
neighbors” – who perhaps dress similarly to the “victimized” woman of the
previous week – then all is a-okay.
Now how’s
that for a pastoral approach! Perhaps this pastor should see my friend as a
lost sheep and go after her. Yeah, right.
My
experience is that pastors like that are just waiting for those trouble-maker
parishioners to leave. THEN they will have a perfect parish where everyone gets
along and luuuuuvs one another. In a parish like this, no one cares if a
traditionalist leaves the parish. The office staff cheers at their weekly
meeting, and expresses concern to anyone who asks about the missing
parishioner. I know. I’ve been there, on both sides.
Here’s
the ironic conclusion to that pastor’s second bulletin article:
If you come to church just for
people to wait on you and cater to all your needs and expectations, then maybe
it would be better if you just went to an exclusive country club instead. But
if you come to Mass to be fully present to the Lord, including His presence in
the gathered community, if you are willing to give of yourself by treating your
neighbor with kindness, then you have come to the right place, and may you
receive the blessings of the Mass.
I wonder if this pastor can milk my friend's actions for yet a third bulletin article...
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PS I recommend this article: "A Catholic Answer to Catholic Answers" in which Christoper Ferrara says a lot of things that help to explain why a pastor would write the kind of bulletin letter quoted in this post. Here's an excerpt:
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PS I recommend this article: "A Catholic Answer to Catholic Answers" in which Christoper Ferrara says a lot of things that help to explain why a pastor would write the kind of bulletin letter quoted in this post. Here's an excerpt:
The neo-Catholic mind is not troubled by this catastrophe, much less determined to oppose the reckless innovations that caused it. The neo-Catholic attitude to what even Paul VI admitted was “a process of self-destruction” of the Church (Allocution of December 7, 1968) is essentially: “What’s the big deal?” I will let Mr. Coffin’s own words in defense of his first two-hour foray against “radical traditionalists” establish the point:It happens to be easy to gripe about the many pressing problems facing the Church today, easy to be agog at the banality of many Ordinary Form (OF) liturgies with their clap-happy ditties that pass for sacred music, easy to lament the indisputable decline of Sunday Mass attendance since the early 1960s, and easy to be vexed by the pitiful state of catechesis in this country.But let’s keep our eyes on the ball. The end is the life of glory with God in the beatific vision, not the Traditional Latin Mass, nor the Ordinary Form, no matter how reverently done. We need to love Jesus Christ and his Bride. On his terms, not ours.In two paragraphs of flippant prose, Coffin dismisses an almost apocalyptic collapse of faith and discipline in the Church. What does it matter, says he, that the liturgy has become banal, indeed a joke, that Mass attendance has declined, that catechesis is pitiful (not only in this country, by the way, but throughout the world)? What matters is that we attain the beatific vision—as if the very substance of the faith had nothing to do with reaching that goal!