Sunday night at dinner we were talking about dreams and Dex described a dream that he had about church:

I was going down the aisle on the way to the Children's Liturgy. (the kids in grades K-6 can leave the church and go into the chapel during the readings and the homily but come back for communion) All of the kids were chained together at the ankles and it was very hard to walk because we were walking through some thick, green goo. Then, if we did not get down the aisle fast enough, we had to start all over again.

Stephen had a heyday as he is "anti-church". (I'd say at the moment but the moment has lasted about a decade). Anyway, Stephen says to me "Are you hearing this?". Of course I was hearing it. I told Dex it was just a dream and then Stephen starts on about how some people believe in dream interpretation but I stopped him before he decided to interpret Dex's dream for him.

I know that my children do not like going to church but they also don't like eating vegetables or brushing their teeth. But it is something that I have decided they need to partake in. They all complain about going to church. Well, that is not true. Cars rarely complains as, up until this year, it was always fun for him. He had Sunday School during Mass and then he got to play in the gym/social hall for an hour with his friends while his brothers went to their religious instruction classes. He is less impressed this year as the kindergartners now go to Mass and now he has religious instruction afterwards so he misses playing with Spy's son, Col, and other preschool and Sunday school friends in the gym.

When Jax complains about going to church, I just tell him that I made a promise to God that I would take him until he was a man and he doesn't want me to break a promise to God, does he? Ah, I've started the Catholic Guilt early, eh? Jax is terribly concerned with the idea that someone may have eaten peanut butter before coming to church and perhaps they have not washed up so he hates giving the Sign of Peace and holding hands during the Lord's Prayer (ok, I have to admit that I don't like that either).

Dex does not really complain that much either. At least, not loud. I can hear him muttering from time-to-time during Mass that it is "so long". He is the one most likely to follow along in the hymnal (reading, but not singing but I'm ok with that) so I guess it can't be that bad for him, right? Hey, I can interpret things too! ;)

I guess I really cannot understand their feelings about church. My mom left the church when I was about 6 or 7 years old so my family all stopped going because there was no way my dad would get all 5 kids up and ready to go to church on Sundays. Up until that point, I loved to get all dressed up and go to church. I had fond memories of wearing white tights with velvet dresses and shiny shoes every Sunday. I did not go back to church again on a regular basis until I was an adult. So it was a decision that I made and not something I was "forced" to do by my parents.

To make matters worse, our Mass has stretched to an an hour and twenty minutes in length! Our priest is not the most dynamic speaker and his homilies take ages! He insists that we sing every verse of every hymn. And now he has eliminated the "sattelite" communion stations so what really should be an hour service is regularly one hour and twenty minutes long. An eternity for children (and for their parents who try to keep them occuppied). I do not believe that my kids should have to sit still for that length of time and even with them going out during the Children's Liturgy (which is infrequent due to lack of volunteers for that program), Mass is just too long for them.

Our neighbours, whom I just found out go to our church as they told me they do not go all that regularly (I admit we don't go often during the summer), asked me if Mass ever ends "on time". Funny to say that. Mass should be an hour long. It should not be longer unless it is Good Friday, Easter Sunday or any of the Christmas Masses.

Oh, so here I am complaining about church, just like my children. Perhaps I do understand their feelings after all.