I recently cleaned my desk and, going through one of the drawers, I discovered something I had written fourteen years ago. Of course it was brilliant but it also was a trip down nostalgia lane. I wrote about what Sunday was like when I was growing up. My dad was an usher at the 11:15 Mass so that was the mass we attended every Sunday. Since no one in our family believed in getting up before you had to we all slept until 10 o’clock. What a great way to start the Lord’s Day with 10 to 12 hours of sleep. The next hour was spent with the usual bedlam of eight people dressing at once with shouts of someone spending too much time in the bathroom, someone not finding their shoe and someone ready and someone complaining that we are going to be late. But we all got there. After Mass, even though it was past noon, we had the Sunday breakfast, the only breakfast of the week featuring eggs and bacon and coffee cake. Of course we were wearing on Sunday clothes. We kept them on if we were going to visit relatives or if company was coming over. Often we did something that seems to have completely gone out of style. We went for a ride in the car. Since my dad used the car for work and nobody had two cars except the real rich, as a kid we either walked or took the bus. Sometimes our ride would end at Kiddieland or an ice cream parlor.

               Late Sunday afternoon, we had Sunday dinner. This was the major meal of the week. My mother believed that any juice in meat meant that it was undercooked. So we enjoyed the “burnt offering” or roast beef or leg of lamb each week. The potatoes, usually boiled during the week, were mashed on Sunday. The dessert was often apple pie topped with ice cream. When company was over, the kids ate first and the adults afterwards. We kids had plenty of time to play. Sometimes we went to the movies for a double feature or we stayed home to watch the Ed Sullivan show. But Sunday was never a day to go shopping since the only store opened was the bakery in the morning. Sunday was never a day when you played sports since none of the leagues scheduled games on the Lord’s Day. Sunday was a day to go to Church, to spend time with family and friends and to rest. Anyone under fifty might think that such a day would be both dull and boring. But we looked forward to that special day all week. Without trucks rumbling around and factories belching out smoke, the air was special that day. For all our progress, we have lost a lot.

               Our Lord said that man was not made for the Sabbath but the Sabbath was made for man. Every seventh day, we need to take a day off from the usual rigmarole. The ancient Hebrews discovered that they actually accomplished more by resting one day a week. Their pagan neighbors wearily toiled everyday. But without the refreshment of a day of rest, they did not get as much done. Unfortunately we tend to emulate the practices of the pagans more than the wisdom of the Hebrews. With all the stores opened, many folks have to work. All the playing fields in summer and all the gyms in winter are opened and games scheduled from early morning to late in the day. The Sunday dinner has fallen into memories as we grab a bite between activities. Being so busy, we don’t have the time to see our relatives and friends as much as people used to. Most seriously, many of the children in school tell me that they can’t get to Sunday Mass because they are so busy. If folks would stop to think about it, it is quite obvious that we have our priorities deeply out of whack. God should come first everyday but most compellingly on His day. But because we have filled our days with so many activities, we just do not have the time to stop and think.

               With a bit of braggadocio, many retired people complain that they are busier now than when they were working. This always puzzles me. The golden years should offer more time for both rest and reflection. However, reflection may be the thing people are most afraid of and they fill their time with things to do to keep them from confronting themselves. We do this at a great risk. I once saw an old Sampler hanging on a wall which said “The hurrier we go the behinder we get”. That wisdom is true. We Catholics used to do daring things like having whole days of reflection or go on retreats that lasted a couple of days. In silence we reviewed our lives and checked to see whether the way we were living our lives agreed with the values we cherished. We dared to spend a whole chunk of time with our Lord. I wonder if the decline in Mass attendance comes from a fear of confronting our Lord and confronting ourselves. We were made by God and God made the Sabbath for us because He knew what we really needed. The world has changed so much from the Sundays of years ago and we can not change the world back. Yet, we can change ourselves. We do not have to shop on Sundays. We do not have to compete in sports on Sundays. We do not have to clean the house, wash the clothes nor do the yard work on Sundays. People used to confess doing servile work on Sundays. I have not heard that in confession in years. Our consciences may not be disturbed but our hearts should be when we consider all that we are missing.

               Sunday Mass and Sunday dinner were the two pillars which supported our Sabbath day. Much has been lost as we give up the Lord’s Day for a lot of lesser things. We go to Sunday Mass to offer ourselves to God the Father. We dedicate the coming week to the service of our God. We join with God the Son in this offering and hope to join with Him in the way we live out lives. We remember through the grace of the Holy Spirit what life is all about and what is the eternal destiny that awaits us. Those graces also spurn us to remember what are the things which have true value during our time on this earth. The people we share a Sunday dinner with, family and friends, mean much more to us that a victory at Little League or a bargain at Target. The grace of God brings the refreshment that we seek and the strength to pursue our coming week with vigor. Meaning fills our days as we recall what life is all about. Joy fills our days as we remember the riches we possess in the people we love and the people who love us in return. Peace fills us as we surrender to the love of God for each one of His children. Life is great when you have your head on right. The Sabbath, rightly done, helps make all this happen.

God bless and keep you.

Fr. Malcolm