Today, because I decided to watch the Match Of The Day repeat, I ended up at the 10.15am Mass.
AKA the ‘Screaming and Crying’ Mass.
Given the numbers who plod out for the Children’s Liturgy, the Roman Catholic Church shouldn’t have any trouble sustaining itself.
But if, as I believe, they are there because their parents are thinking ahead about school places.... It’s fucked!
There was a magic moment before kick off, when the old lady with barely any teeth and the old lady with barely any English got into it over the collection bags.
I’m not sure how that one got resolved. I’d like to think they took it in the car park and had a bit of a scrap.
It was the one with scant English who waved it under my nose.
Then there was the moment of absolute gold.
A little boy, unimpressed by the mystery of Transubstantiation, was hugging and grabbing his kneeling Father’s leg.
Getting no response other than the finger to the lips “Shush” sign, he waited until ‘we were not worthy to receive’ anything then BIT his Dad right on the cheek of his arse!
Watching a huge black man grip the pew and throw his head back in a silent scream was brilliant.
From the way he looked at his son I just knew; another time, another place and this kid wouldn’t be sitting down for a week.
I couldn’t keep my shit together after that!