Plucky Letters to US soldiers in Iraq

February 3, 2005

Dear Rob,

I’m so sorry you won’t be here to witness my debut as a member of the clergy this Sunday! It is finally my turn to serve as usher at 10:00 AM mass. I haven’t had any official training, but I’ve been carefully watching the ushers every Sunday, so I think I can handle the job.

In fact, I’m nearly certain I can increase the collection proceeds. I noticed that the January ushers were a bit hesitant in collecting the weekly offering. They barely skimmed the pews with those basket-on-a-pole collection devices, and there was certain reluctance about them, as if they didn’t want to appear to be conducting a Roman Catholic shakedown.

I have no such qualms. I believe it is my duty as an usher to ensure that each and every parishioner gives until it hurts. The way I see it, our parishioners obediently pay 40% of their incomes in taxes to the US government with nary a protest. If big spenders like that won’t cough up ten bucks a week for the Holy Roman Catholic Church, they need to re-think their priorities! Nobody gets out of church without dropping some cash into the offering basket. Not on MY watch, anyway.

I will bring a new dimension of fiscal accountability to our little parish this Sunday. My plan is to politely pause at any pew from which the donation envelopes are not rolling in. I will gently shake my basket-on-a-pole in the general direction of whomever I think is holding out on Jesus. If that doesn’t make them reach for their wallet, I will stare them down with a look of piteous contempt.

I will say nothing, of course. We ushers are a silent crew. Our task is to humbly collect, not to account or to judge.

But after I pass them by, I am nearly certain the deadbeats of the congregation will hear in their hearts a small, still voice whispering,
“You asshole. Don’t think the Prince of Peace hasn’t noticed what you pay every month for your precious cable TV service.”

I believe I can inspire such self-recrimination among my fellow Christians. I think it’s all a matter of maintaining a stern facial expression and a steely grip on the basket-on-a-pole collection device.

I hope I never have to serve as usher on a high holiday. I’m still a little bit pissed off about the 4:00 PM Christmas Eve mass, and I just don’t trust myself to maintain my Christian good will. The problem on Christmas was the “C&E Catholics.” These are the heathens who show up only twice a year, on Christmas and Easter, and act like that sort of postcard Catholicism will keep them from burning in hell for all eternity.
(And we won't even be able to give them a drink of water, or so I am told by my mother.)

These C&E Catholics are sneaky enough to arrive early and take up all the seats, not to mention parking spaces, leaving those of us who show up each and every week to stand in the back like WE’RE the visitors. Do these people really think we don’t realize we’ve never seen them before? Do they think Father O’Neal is unaware that they fail to drag their sinful souls to mass on any other Catholic days of holy obligation?

Well, they don’t care. There are hundreds of them and they all have the colossal nerve to grace us with their presence only on Christmas Eve and Easter and HOG ALL THE PEWS. (Did I mention the parking spaces?)

I suspect the C&Es believe we’re all just thrilled to see them, and we’re just itching to kill the fatted calf and welcome them home like prodigal sons. I would very much like to tell them the story of the prodigal son who cried alleluia every Christmas and Easter for 20 years until somebody in an SUV ran over his car in the church parking lot.

Some of these C&Es even tried to sing along with the Christmas Eve choir! Trust me when I tell you that full-throated public singing in a Catholic church is almost heretical. You’re supposed to mouth the words, keep your head down, and fake it like everyone else. Everybody knows Catholic congregations can’t sing!

We of the Roman faith have fully-funded monasteries and nunneries devoted to producing Glorias and Alleluias in pitch-perfect Gregorian Latin. We don’t need any American Idol wannabees trying to pull off an impromptu “Ave Maria” from the cheap seats.

If you want to “get down” with the choir, go hang out with the Protestants.
They’ll let you sing your fool heart out no matter how untalented you happen to be.

None of these C&E interlopers had prepared donation envelopes. Most of them tried to look innocently unaware as the ushers went around collecting the cash that runs the church they’d just hijacked in their sudden fit of seasonal religiosity. The more scrupulous C&Es panicked at the sight of the collection baskets and made an effort to scrounge around in pockets and purses to come up with some small change or travelers checks. But most of them just looked away as the collection basket passed by because they never go to church and they simply forgot about the collection until it was too late. I think that’s a financial opportunity we can leverage next year.

I think our church should advertise a special holiday mass for those who only go to mass on Christmas and Easter. We could call it, “Mass for Tourists” and charge a $10 admission fee at the door. I really can’t imagine they’d refuse to pay. After all, they’re feeling all warm and fuzzy, what with being prodigal sons and all. Maybe we could offer a Prodigal Son’s Special that includes a post-mass dinner of fatted calf, mashed potatoes, and three bean salad at $10.00 a person. ($4.00 for the “ Prodigal Kids” hot dog and potato salad meal.)

I see no reason this would not work to the benefit of all mankind.

Much love,

--Your Sainted Mother, Usher of Historic St. Patrick’s Church
(You can just call me "Mom")