When it’s OK to dig up dirt

by Father Mark Goldasich

One of the remarkable things that Jesus did was surprise us by turning things upside down. A couple of examples are “the first shall be last, and the last shall be first” or “whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

This change of perspective can often turn what seems a negative into a positive. Sometimes, parents will apologize that their little one was noisy during Mass, especially “being in competition with your homily.”

I tell them that it takes a lot to distract me. Children don’t fall into that category. Now a tornado, that’s a whole different story!

I simply reassure the parents that:

1) I’m thrilled the whole family is here at Mass.

2) Their little one is participating in an age-appropriate manner. (Even if that means having a meltdown!) And if that child can drown out a whole church of adults, then we’re not praying loud enough.

3) I’d rather have their child at Mass — healthy — than go to visit him or her at a hospital.

A year ago, a parishioner forwarded a Facebook post that marvelously captures the idea of seeing things from a new perspective. It was written by Father Jeffrey Starkovich, who is the pastor at St. Pius X Parish in Ragley, Louisiana.

He wrote:

After everyone had left the church this morning, I noticed one of our dads stayed behind.

“Do you need some help?” I asked him as I walked up behind him.

“Oh no, Father. I just saw how dirty the floor was in the church after Masses, so I thought I’d sweep.”

He was going under every chair and kneeler carefully. I saw a huge pile of dirt at the end of the row that he had collected. As I looked around, he’d collected several enormous piles of dirt and grass already.

“It’s amazing how dirty the floor gets in one weekend. Our volunteers just cleaned on Friday. Look how much you’ve already swept!” I said.

“You know, Father, I think this is wonderful. As I’m sweeping under each chair, I’m thanking God that someone was sitting in it this weekend. All the dirt I see is because someone came to church today. I love seeing how dirty this floor is.”

“You’re right,” I said. “If we wanted a clean church, we wouldn’t let people inside. I hope everyone thinks the way you do. When a house is messy, it’s because people live inside. When the dishes need to be washed, it’s because people ate together.”

“Father, sweeping this floor today makes me excited to go home and see my wife. I can’t wait to tell her that I’m happy even when our house is a little messy. It means someone lives there. . . . I’d rather us be together than have a perfectly clean house with no one inside.”

“And that’s how I think Jesus feels about the church,” I said. “He’d rather us be here and get it a little messy than have it sparkling and empty.”

“Thanks, Father. I’m going to keep sweeping and praying for each person who came through this weekend.”

And as I walked away, I smiled and said a prayer of thanksgiving: Thank you, Lord, for the dirt on your floor.

Thanks, Father Starkovich, for shifting my perspective. After the weekend Masses, I now smile that chairs are askew, smashed Cheerios are littered here and there, some missalettes are left on the seats, or that a small coat, glove or shoe was left behind.

All those things mean that people cared enough to come to Mass, and how good it was for them — and the dirt — to be there!