Funny Guy Friday… Who goes to 8:00 Mass on Christmas Day?

Funny Guy Friday is written each week by my husband, Mark. So I married a funny guy…
     About three weeks before Christmas day, our Priest sent out the most recent schedule for the altar servers. Our church is blessed with over 100 altar servers and our Matthew is one of them.  He serves about once every month so we look forward to the new schedule coming out every three months or so.
     As our family was all together in our car, Cheryl mentioned that the new server schedule had come out. She followed that up with a long pause so I took the bait and asked as to what mass Matthew had been assigned. She advised that he had been assigned to the 8 a.m. Mass on Christmas day.  I blurted out No way, that will ruin our entire Christmas morning. Who goes to church at 8:00 on Christmas morning!?! Oops! wrong thing to say in front of Saint Cheryl.
     Of course, I did not mean that going to church at 8:00 on Christmas morning would ruin our Christmas morning.  I just meant that……..going to church at 8:00 on Christmas morning would ruin our Christmas morning. I mean, we have certain Christmas traditions. We get up in our new pajamas and we unwrap our gifts and we eat a nice breakfast made by yours truly and then and only then, do we go to church---the noon mass. We love the noon mass, thank you.
     We decided that we would give it a day or two before deciding whether we would look for a replacement or go ahead and serve. I took the decision seriously as I knew that if we tried to get a substitute, that young man would have his Christmas morning ruined, er, uh altered. We really could not do that to some other unsuspecting family, could we?
     Thankfully, we did not have to. The next day, we got a call from a mother of a family that has 12 kids, several of which are altar servers. She had checked the schedule and advised us that they attend the 8:00 mass on Christmas day every year and she graciously offered to sacrifice up one of her sons. A Christmas miracle. Problem solved.
     Unfortunately, we encountered an unexpected plot twist----Matthew heard that the mass was going to be at the Chapel, which happens to be one of the first Catholic churches built in the United States. He had never served at a mass in the chapel and he was thinking that  it might be kinda cool to serve on Christmas morning. Oh no, now what? We decided to leave the fate of our family's Christmas up to our 11-year-old son.
     You know, mothers have a certain way of influencing kids. I have no proof, but I would bet dollars to donuts that Cheryl got to him. Of course, Matthew decided to do the "right thing" and serve on Christmas morning. He mentioned it was an honor to be selected and that Father Parry chose him for a reason, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Sounds like all the things a certain mother that we all know might say, don't you think? His decision was much to his sister's chagrin. She demanded that we would immediately return home after mass and get back into our pajamas. We were to act as if the whole thing never happened. Now that I think about it, her reaction sounds like something that a certain father that we all know might say, don't you think?
     So, despite the fact that Santa did not make an appearance Christmas Eve until after 2 a.m.---if he did, I did not see him---we were up and out of the house bright and early on Christmas morning. In fact, we left the house at about 7:15 a.m. That's right, I said a.m. I must say, the kids were awesome. Grace even woke up by herself when her alarm went off. This sounds like a small thing but believe me, it is not. In fact, I considered this to also be a Christmas miracle. As you can see, my bar is low when it comes to Christmas miracles.
     I will give Gracie girl credit. She stuck to her game plan and did not even look under the tree before we left the house. Noah tried to ignore his booty from Santa but could not muster up the will power. As he stared, slack-jawed and slobbering, Cheryl told him it was okay. It is like a moth drawn to a flame---just a natural reaction to Christmas morning, she advised. 
     On the way to church, I gave Matthew a scouting report on what I anticipated from the congregation. They would be older and hard core. Lifelong Catholics who took their church going seriously. No sirree, no one in this group would get confused and wish someone a Happy Easter on Christmas morning. This group attends mass weekly, if not daily. I told him that any mistake, and I mean any little mistake, would be picked up by the crowd and that would spell d i s a s t e r. "Seasoned parishioners" can be pretty unforgiving. I advised Matthew of all of this, but followed up by assuring him that there was no pressure---but please don't do anything to embarrass me! Just good parenting.
     The church was beautiful and we had a great opportunity to take a long look around as we were in our seats by 7:30 a.m. On the way, I wondered aloud what we were going to do for a half hour before mass and once again, Saint Cheryl told us we could pray. What prayer takes a half hour? I only have the five minute variety in my repertoire. So after finishing my prayer, Noah and I told a few jokes----just a couple of seven-year-olds having a good time.  
     Monsignor Parry had the mass and he spoke about the history of the church and the hundreds of thousands of people that have sat in these pews to enjoy the Christmas mass over the years. He pointed out that by our mere presence on this Christmas morning, we were part of history.  He then described how Mary and Joseph, parents for the first time, must have felt on this day many, many years ago. His homily made me think of a couple of things.
     First, I contemplated the fact that it was possible that my rear end was sitting in the same pew as some historical figure's rear end. Made my rear end feel kind of warm and fuzzy. Second, and way more important, I thought of how proud I am of my kids on this day, with Matthew on the altar and Grace sitting with my mother at the end of the pew and Noah sitting on my lap. This confirmed what I already knew---We are truly blessed!
     The mass was perfect, went off without any glitches by the altar servers. We were home and back into our pajamas by 9:30. The kids were incredibly patient and had a great time opening their gifts. I found it very interesting, and kind of gratifying, that they had as much fun giving gifts that they selected for one another as they did receiving gifts for themselves.  In fact, I would venture to say that we had the best Christmas day ever.
     Why... The 8 a.m. mass didn't stop Christmas from coming... it came!… Somehow or other... it came just the same! Like Christmas in Whoville… Christmas morning wasn't ruined at all.
     So with that being said, and with all the blessings that I have in my life, you would think that I could at least get on my knees and be able to say thank you for thirty minutes. I will try to remember that next year at the 8:00 Christmas day mass. What the heck, every family tradition has to start sometime.