October 25^th 1970

The first day Monica and I entered this church. We had just returned from our honeymoon and moved into our new house. We decided that even though St. Hedwig’s had been Monica’s parish, we should attend the the church up the street. We heard the people there were Mountain Movers. Well it’s 31 years later and to some of the families that help build this church, I’m sure we’re still known as the new couple from down on Broom St. A lot has happened to us during those 31 years and a few years ago as part of an RCIA presentation I tried to put it into words. It is a little story I called Forth Pew on the Right. There are no names in the story because it could be about any one of us. I would like to share it with you tonight.

Fourth Pew on the Right

Each year during the RCIA process we have to instruct those preparing to enter the Church about Our Sunday obligation to attend Mass. In my heart I knew what motivated my attendance at Mass each Sunday but it was hard for me to put into words. I knew the rule we learned as children. I knew that it was a sin to deny Gods love and miss Sunday mass and it was important to teach them that. However what I really wanted to let them know was how important it was for me to have them there every week to share the Eucharist.

As I thought about it I found that I kept focusing on where we sit each Sunday. We almost always sit in the same place, the fourth pew on the right. We were newlyweds in that pew, in love and excited about our future. We brought our young children into that pew, carting in the diaper bags and then the Barbie dolls, trying to instill in them the same faith and habit our parents had given us. Later with two teenagers, Sunday mornings changed to "Girls, please get up, we're going to be late for Mass." At the same time all around us were other families. They were growing up, aging, changing before our eyes. We watched their children play Football or Basketball for the "Vikings" on Friday and Saturday and then attend Mass with Mom and Dad on Sunday. There is a family that sits in front of us that spans four generations. Some Sundays they barely fit into the pew. My cousin and his family sit over on Mary's side. Our Benedictine Sisters are usually to our left. Our Cantor is in front, usually giving me the evil eye for not singing. Many wonderful Priests have stood on the altar in front of us. All around us sit friends and memories.

Over the years things have changed. Our daughters are grown, so we now sit by ourselves. Some older couples that sat around us are no longer there. Children that we watched grow up now sit with their own children. Yet the constant that we call our Parish Family is always there. Whether at a sporting event or working at our High School, almost every day I see and interact with the people I worship with on Sunday. They are intertwined in my life. We are the family in the fourth pew on the right. It's there that we doted over each others children. It's there where we consoled each other when a loved one was lost. It’s there where prayers were offered and accepted during serious illness. Some people have become our closest friends, others we just see on Sundays, but they are all special to us. They are all our Parish.

At a past Parish Mission, The visiting Priest asked us what the word "this" meant when Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me." At the ripe age of 53 I believe that "this" is the coming together of the community each weekend to worship and celebrate Eucharist. I believe that the "obligation" we have is not only to God but to each other. I believe in the future we must be there to support the needs of our Church each Sunday. We must be there to welcome the new family that will sit behind us, just as we were welcomed years ago. Together we will struggle for the right words to console a family that has lost a loved one. And who knows maybe I may be blessed enough to someday carry my grandchild’s diaper bag into the fourth pew on the right. That my friends is Church.

Since I’ve written these words things continue to happen in that pew. A man that I met during my illness died recently. We were chemo baldies together and shared stories of our Doctors visits and the many tests. We talked almost every Sunday and most of all we prayed for each other. I miss him but we still pray for each other.

Our oldest daughter was married this past September and the very next weekend the daughter of the family that sits in front of us was also married. We shared each others joy and wedding planning stories. These are things that happen to all of us. However sharing these events with each other is what makes us Church. It is what makes our church holy and apostolic. I remember when we were new to St.Elizabeths. There was an elderly man that sat a couple rows in front of us. I’ll never forget how protective he was of his seat. He even went as far as asking people to move if they sat in his place. I now understand why. You see I’m getting old and crotchety too. So be warned. I don’t care if you sit in my pew just keep the two seats by the aisle clear. There ours.

Thanks for listening.