The other week, Sunday Mass was cut short. Or it was for my family, anyway… My newborn was fussy and my toddler got grumpy with his father when he saw me take his younger brother outside. We were back in the car before the final blessing.
Sundays like that may be rare, but no less trying.
Technically, children don’t have an obligation to attend Mass on Sunday until they reach the age of reason. Similarly, care responsibilities can exempt adults from attending Mass on Sundays under certain circumstances. It is all too easy, therefore, to argue in favour of staying home in the warm and dry when you’re a tired and busy parent of little ones. If toddler antics mean you may spend more time outside of church than in, why bother going? Could you not offer up a few prayers over breakfast instead? On the contrary, as a natural fruit of marriage, children are an important – if not vital – part of the parish community.
Exposure
I like to think taking young children to Mass brings many benefits — even beyond providing others with an opportunity to practice patience when toddlers get a little out of hand.
At the most basic level, early Mass attendance exposes children to the truth and beauty of the Gospel and our Catholic faith. Children are like sponges and absorb huge amounts of information in those early years. We can nurture their God-given ability to understand the deeper truths of the world around them by taking them to Mass and using Sunday mornings as a designated time to teach them about Jesus.
Such a positive spin on a toddler meltdown mid-Mass may well help encourage a mother to go back to church the next week”
Taking toddlers to Mass also keeps the family together on a Sunday morning. Rather than one parent — or both — staying home with the kiddos, braving the chaos of Mass with little ones keeps both parents in the pews. Studies show that a father’s attendance at church is a key indicator of lasting faith in children. And, at a very practical level, managing the exploits of little ones becomes easier with another pair of adult eyes and hands at the ready.
This is not to say that the choice to take children to Mass is easy. Readers may have heard the adage “if a church isn’t crying, it’s dying”. Such a positive spin on a toddler meltdown mid-Mass may well help encourage a mother to go back to church the next week, rather than give in to the urge to shy away indoors until it’s time for her child to make her first Holy Communion. But, regrettably, it doesn’t help keep the church peaceful for others. Understandably, parents don’t want their little ones causing a raucous and disrupting Sunday’s serenity for those around them.
Thankfully, having sought advice from mothers of few and many children, I’m pleased to say there are a few tricks a parent can deploy. When my oldest was a little over one, I turned to Catholic friends, Catholic WhatsApp chats and the comments section of Catholic Mothers — a Facebook group with thousands of mums ready to offer their advice on myriad topics — for their wisdom on keeping wrigglers at bay. Their answers converged on perseverance, distraction, and reward.
Efforts
More experienced mothers than I keenly endorsed the power of special books or quiet toys that only come out on Sunday mornings. Some parents said colouring in sheets, whether depicting Bible scenes and saints, or generic flowers and trucks, work well for older children. For younger tots, snacks of raisins and Cheerios came highly recommended. My limited experience of motherhood fully endorses the latter.
Another friend wisely told me that “children will gradually get used to the Mass only if you attend regularly, then it becomes a habit.” This mother of three — soon to be four — also told me that when you start taking tiny ones to Mass “you will spend more time outside the church than inside but that’s ok as Our Lord sees our effort and will reward us and our children.”
The idea of offering up a trying time at church for your family’s sanctification is a beautiful and noble idea. And one that certainly gives me hope on more hairy mornings. If the raisins don’t work next Sunday, at least I have something to offer up — as might fellow parishioners if my son forgets his ‘indoor voice’.
Portia Berry-Kilby lives on a farm in Co. Cavan with her husband and two sons. She is a stay-at-home mother and occasional freelance writer.
