Sunday morning TV

I was awake early last Sunday, and while I waited for the paper to arrive, I decided to tune into the station that carries a half-hour Mass at 7:30 on channel 26. This is not EWTN, so a local priest says the Mass with some local parish providing the congregation. I knew the priest - he used to be pastor at my parish. His dad was a local TV personality, so he is well-versed in media presentations. I was surprised to see that the congregation this time was from my current parish - a dozen older women (of course), and a set of grandparents with their Cub Scout grandson. I recognized several of the women - one is the mother of one of the authors of the Encyclopedia of Chicago. A professional song leader and pianist provided the music, but you couldn't hear anyone singing except the leader. The homily was brief, but memorable, on the blind man who asked to see. The main point being no one can "see" anything or anyone outside of themselves if they are in the dark due to the inner walls they have built around themselves. I noticed several little short-cuts in the Mass, but it was all done in 29 minutes with no commercials except for a pitch at the very end for funding from the director of the Mercy Home for Boys and Girls, which sponsors the show.

Channel 26 aired one commercial for an attorney specializing in cases of nursing home accidents or mistreatment (nursing home residents are the early Sunday morning TV audience, no doubt), then went right to the next show, a service from the Apostolic Church of God on the south side of town, so I stayed to watch that, too. This one had a full gospel choir (everyone in matching robes) with several soloists and a 10-piece band in front of hundreds of people (all dressed to the nines) in an auditorium-style setting. After several rousing numbers, the pastor, an older man who had appeared in the beginning by himself for a brief appeal to all the "sisters and brothers" to be sure to vote on Election Day (didn't say who should get their votes, but that's pretty much understood here), turned over the pulpit to a young deacon for the sermon. He was nervous, sweating, and stumbling over his words until he got into his message on the story of the Good Samaritan, then he roamed the stage, talking a mile a minute. By the end he had everyone talking to the people around them to make sure that no one remained a needy stranger. I felt like applauding his effort!

After another commercial from the nursing home problem-chaser, Joel Osteen came on the air from his mega-church in Houston. I bought his best-seller books for my library, back when I was still working, so here was my chance to see him in action. He was slim and polished to a T, with nary a look at any notes (must have had a teleprompter somewhere). The congregation was immense - probably a thousand or more. Certainly not as well dressed as the Apostolics, though. I heard a baby crying somewhere off in the crowd, which lent the whole thing a little honesty, I thought. Joel's sermon was about not letting hard luck keep you down - that God will reward anyone who keeps the faith through thick and thin. The word "reward" kept reappearing. That made me uncomfortable, as though he was promising ultimate happiness in this life for anyone who had to suffer for awhile, as in the story of Job. His prime example was about a young man who had been on dialysis for over ten years, and finally found a friend who wanted to donate a kidney to him, so now he's healthy and happy. We all know that not every story has a happy ending, but that's what Joel seemed to promise, if you only keep smiling and praising God.

At the end, I had to admit that Osteen and the Apostolics were very entertaining. They both made big pitches for funding at the end of their shows. Joel Osteen's pitches reminded me of Disney World commercials. The best thing I can say about the Catholic Mass is that it certainly was humble.