Noisy Children at Mass

At Sunday Mass, young children will act up once in a while and make a lot of noise. I am, of course, using the definition of the phrase “once in a while” that means: “every single Sunday like clockwork right in the middle of the homily.”

When toddlers in church get fidgety and make noise, I smile and think to myself, “Well, I’m just glad they’re here at Mass.” Many parents choose to leave their young children at home instead of bringing them to Mass. Come to think of it, many parents nowadays choose to leave themselves at home, too, rather than go to Mass.

I’m grateful these young families are in church, regardless of how noisy the youngsters are. However, when I think back to the time when my kids were young, I wasn’t always so serene and forgiving. In fact, if I remember correctly, I often spent the entire Mass glaring at my kids and whispering through clenched teeth, “If you don’t stop it RIGHT NOW, you’re in big trouble!!” (And let me tell you, it is not easy to whisper capitalized words and double exclamation points. It’s takes a lot of talent to convey anger while making hardly any sound.)

At the time I thought I was subtle enough so only my kids could tell I was angry, but now I realize everyone within a 50-foot radius also could tell my blood pressure was in the red zone. If the folks nearby could not actually hear my whispered threats, they knew something was going on because of the steam spewing from my ears.

The more I think about it, the more I realize I should phone my children, now all grown up, and apologize for the way I behaved in church a quarter-century ago. And to think, back then I was convince they were the ones misbehaving, when it turns out I was the one ignoring Jesus’ words, “Let the little children come unto me.”

I think the main reason I badgered my kids to be silent during Mass was my fear of getting nasty looks from other adults in the church. Let’s be honest, people can be very quick to offer a nasty glance toward rambunctious kids and their parents. It’s frustrating enough to try and keep children from disrupting Mass, but then to have to endure angry stares from other adults doesn’t help. I wonder if some of the parents who no longer go to Mass nowadays do so because of the looks they received from other parishioners?

Here’s an episode that actually occurred in my parish many years ago, and I swear I’m not exaggerating. A young mother brought her two boisterous sons to Mass each Sunday. One day after Mass, she saw that someone had put a hand-written note under the windshield wiper of her car. The note said: “If you can’t keep your children quiet, maybe you should go to a different church.” Nice, huh? Not only was that a nasty gesture, but doing it anonymously was cowardly, too.

So, now when I’m at Mass and I hear some youngsters acting up, I not only whisper to myself, “I’m just glad they’re here at Mass,” I also make a point of looking at the parents and smiling. If I’m close enough, I’ll whisper, “They’re so cute!” I figure it’s the least I can do to counteract some of the nasty stares they’re bound to get.

Yes, I freely admit it’s difficult to engage in solemn prayer during Mass when a toddler in the pew behind you is screaming and throwing Cheerios at the back of your head. I get it. But those are the moments when we have to stop and ask ourselves, “What would Jesus do?” And the answer is: Jesus would smile and laugh and be delighted that the youngster is in church, even if it’s more difficult to engage in solemn prayer. And we should do the same.