October 5th, 2026
Karin and I took Asher to Mass yesterday. We do that most Sundays. Asher generally does not like to go to church (really, how many five-year-old boys do?). However, he is okay with attending the service if Miss Jenny is there to teach the children’s liturgy. Yesterday she was at Mass to talk to the little kids about Jesus, so Asher was willing to go with us without too much grumbling. When we take Asher to church, always pack a bag with snacks and art supplies for him. During the liturgy, he eats something and draws pictures. This is not to say that he is inattentive to what is occurring during the Mass. He really does pay attention to what is happening, but as I mentioned before, he is a five-year-old boy, and the service is geared for an adult population.
Father Michael celebrated the Mass yesterday. He was filling in for our pastor. Father Michael used to be the pastor of our parish, but he got transferred a few years back. He baptized Asher and he still seems to have a soft spot for our grandson. Father Michael was extremely ill a while ago, and he did not entirely recover. Although he is younger than me, he is retired now, and that is why he can fill in for other priests. He is disabled to a certain degree. His hands are crippled up, and he walks slowly and haltingly. Still, he comes to us to celebrate the Mass. Despite his physical problems, he still follows his calling. He is still loyal to his vocation as a priest. I have to believe that he does his work out of love; love for God and for us. I admire him for that.
Just before the Scripture readings, Father Michael blessed the children who Miss Jenny had summoned for their catechesis. There were only a few kids there, and Asher was among them. Jenny took the children to another room to talk to them about God. Asher apparently likes how she does that.
The deacon gave the homily (sermon) at the Mass. He described a vision he had a long time ago. Jesus spoke to him in the vision and asked the deacon what he had done with all the time Jesus had given to him. According to Deacon Greg, the vision was brief but intense. God was asking Greg how he was using his life. In Greg’s homily he asked the congregation the same question.
While he spoke, Karin and I looked at each and then at the empty space in the pew where Asher had been sitting. We nodded to each other. We know what we are doing with whatever remains of our lives. It all revolves around a little boy.
Sometimes, I envy the people at Mass who have a firm and unwavering faith in God. I don’t. The preaching is almost always about God’s love and mercy, and I see precious little of that in the world outside of the church. I often think about Asher’s situation. He has no father in his life, and it is unlikely that he ever will. His mother is available to him for only a few hours each week. Asher has been traumatized, and God has seen fit to allow that to happen. The standard theological answer to my concerns and doubts is that it is all due to human sinfulness, and Asher is collateral damage. Maybe so, but I also know the parents of a family from Asher’s school, and their little girl has leukemia. Does a kid get cancer because of somebody’s sin? I pray for that family (they asked for our prayers), but I often feel like I am praying to God to protect people from God. Still, I pray anyway. I learned in the synagogue that prayer is our default mode. We can doubt God or be angry with Him/Her, but there is still nobody else to turn to.
I wonder sometimes if it worthwhile for Asher to go to religious education. What does he gain from it? Does it matter if he grows up Catholic, or Christian at all? Most of my closest friends are not Christian. During the last month, I have spent more of my free time with Buddhists, Muslims, and Jews than with my coreligionists. When I recite the Credo at Mass, the prayer that starts with, “I believe”, I have my doubts. When I say “I believe”, it is more like, “Yeah, sure, why not?”. I have been both a wounded person and a person who wounds others in my life, and I can no longer trust like a little child. I know Asher trusts me. Does he trust God? Can he trust God?
After the Creed, the children came back from their class. Most of them walked quietly back to their seats. Asher skipped all the way up the main aisle of the church to get to our pew. He was smiling and happy. The deacon smiled back at him. Asher showed my wife a hand stamp that he had received from Miss Jenny. I have no idea what he learned in class, except that Jenny loves him. That is probably enough.
When the service was over, we stopped in front of the altar to show our respects. There is a large crucifix hanging over the altar. Asher bowed like we did, and then he waved to Jesus to say goodbye.
A friend of mine from Asher’s school talked with me about his faith. I told him about mine. I said,
“I believe that love wins in the end. Everything else is peripheral to that.”
