Considering the seven-mile drive between the parishes and his penchant for long homilies, the second morning Mass seldom starts on time. On the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, Father had an 8 AM Mass at our parish and a 9 AM at our sister parish that I attended, something I wouldn’t normally do but for some scheduling conflicts of my own. I arrived about 8:55, knowing the Mass would likely be a few minutes late beginning.
Everyone sat in the pews waiting patiently. By 9:10, still no priest. I noticed several men, myself included, glancing at their watches. I found myself getting a little perturbed, the same feeling one gets sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s office well past the time of the appointment. Doesn’t he value our time? Why does he schedule a certain time when he knows he will be late?
Then, I came to my senses. I looked around the church. The average age of those in attendance was probably mid-seventies. Here I was sitting in front of the tabernacle in the presence of Our Lord. Instead of taking advantage of the opportunity to pray, I was thinking of what else I could be doing rather than waiting on a tardy priest. Truth be known, I had nothing better to do. What better is there to do than be in the presence of Our Lord? I suddenly felt foolish.
I wish I could say I spent the next few minutes totally focused on the tabernacle in conversation with Jesus. I did make the attempt, but I glanced at my watch again when Father rolled in at 9:17 and again at 9:20 when Mass actually began. What I got was a lesson in patience and humility. Who am I to think my time is more important than anyone else’s, especially that of a priest? I want to remember this next time I have to wait on anyone, be it a priest, a doctor or service in a restaurant. Maybe they have a reason for being delayed. Give them a break. It’s okay. Sure my time is valuable, but despite Father’s tardiness, I was only about twenty minutes late getting back to my recliner.
