Almost didn't get a parking spot at church this morning. Late because I let my husband sleep in -- he probably has a little jet lag and a hangover of fatigue from not sleeping on Friday night and watching the kids all day on Saturday -- I got one of the last two spaces and there were still another dozen cars pulling into the lot.

The parking problem was one of the reasons that I stopped attending church when Fr. Mike came 18 mos. ago. Fr. Valentine was so despised that there was never a parking problem -- folks stayed away or went elsewhere. Parking problems are a real turn-off for me. I would not have had the guts to park illegally on the street. But, geez, parking on the street ought to be allowed on Sunday morning. I don't know why the town can't make an exception. Folks in the neighborhood seem to be vocally opposed to just about anything the church wants to do.

The lady who parked next to me has five or six children so I paused to make sure that she had enough room to park and unload them, open doors and whatever. I offered to help her walk her children into the building because we were a good ways out, in a far corner of the lot, and cars were still circling around looking for openings. It wasn't quite safe. But she only had one child with her; she had dropped off her older children at the front door on her way by. She said that Father needs to add a service on Sunday morning and I reminded her of the announcement mailed home last week with the upcoming schedule for Holy Week which showed new Mass times for both Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, three services on each day instead of two. I said, "Perhaps Father is moving in this direction, changing Mass times and adding a service."

As I entered the doors with a steady stream of worshippers, I watched the wave of youngsters going downstairs for "children's church" - a once a month program. I found a seat for one in a back pew just as the Scripture readings began and I mulled over a point made yesterday at the evangelization training about how hard it is to feel comfortable at a new church: for all you know, someone opined, you are sitting in someone else's seat! At that moment, I put two-n-two together: the wave of young people leaving the sanctuary and the seemingly providential seat-for-one towards the back, and I figured out that at the end of the readings, a little boy or girl was going to return to the pew and find me sitting in her seat! And that is what happened, but fortunately there was room for everyone. Still I felt like such a lug.

The first reading was the Decalogue from Ex. 20 with an optional short version which omitted all that offensive stuff about not carving idols (verses 4-6). We read the long version. The way it was punctuated or printed on the page called out our preference for breaking the "covet" commandment into two: house and wife plus other property.

The Responsorial Psalm was performed by Norah Jones, I'm quite sure. It was sultry. Even Father looked a little surprised and impressed. I saw a number of people rocking in their seats, enjoying the solo. It was hard not to sway.

The Gospel reading was John's version of the cleansing of the Temple. I have a post on this blog somewhere about my understanding of the significance of the cleansing ... I mean the story's christological import, what the Evangelists are saying about the Person of Jesus in that story. Instead of pointing out any of Jesus' kingship which I think the story expresses, our pastor talked about our temptation to bargain with God and to think of religion in terms of quid pro quo. He mentioned "covenant" a couple of times and I'm not clear on what he means.

( http://www.catholic.com/thisrock/1999/9902chap.asp, please pardon the "triumphalist" tone -- I think Akin's conclusion is mostly accurate: that Catholicism isn't "either-or" on the issue of dispensational vs. covenantal theology, but some of each. )

So I'm listening to the homily and I'm thinking, yeah, but isn't it quid pro quo? I mean don't we express things in these terms? We can say 'til we're blue in the face, "God doesn't work that way." and at the same time, during the Prayers of the Faithful, offer up an intention that "our Lenten observances will help us find favor with God." Huh? Exsqueeze me? Baking powder? Maybe someone can explain that to me.

I'll blog some of the beautiful words of the Eucharistic Prayer.

I sat in the back, remember, third row from the back, and was overwhelmed during Communion how more and more and more people approached the altar in a steady stream from behind me! I was asking myself, where are they all standing? SRO at the 11 o'clock Mass in Perrineville! Who would have guessed it? I glanced along the backwall after Communion and saw a good number of people standing there. I peered into the vestibule and saw a good many more. This is insane.

Back in the parking lot, I overheard a woman tell her daughter, "Come on, we need to hurry, I'm blocking someone else's car." I again encountered the lady with several kids when I reached my car and, since many people leave church during Communion, I pointed out to her that there were plenty of parking spaces now, just after Mass. She laughed -- she's very lighthearted.