Sprawling habits

Three incidents today got me thinking about civility.

The first was at mass. There were maybe a hundred and fifty people in attendance for the 8 AM service. At the Basilica, we receive at the rail and there were enough people present to make a line up waiting for places at the rail.

Ahead of me was a woman who obviously thinks of herself as devout. She was wearing a mantilla. After receiving, she remained at the rail on her knees, actively praying, she remained so long that the priest came back the other way and she had to break her routine to wave him off as he had no idea she had already received and was ready to present her with a second host.

And routine it was. She obviously has a whole series of prayers and devotions she goes through every time she goes to the rail to receive the Eucharist.

When she finished she stepped back and genuflected.

When it was time to leave the church afterward, she caused another line up because she insisted on stopping in front of the crucifix and prostrating herself on the floor.

As I say, she must think of herself as devout but she is, in fact, a selfish, inconsiderate and thoughtless person who doesn't have a clue about the Gospel.

And then I got on the bus and there was this guy who sat in a seat and sprawled so he blocked passage to the seats behind him. But it wasn't just his sitting style that involved sprawling. He spoke to his a guy across the aisle—this guy being sprawled so much that he managed to block the aisle and make it impossible for anyone else to sit in the seat beside him—and he spoke so loudly that everyone in the bus got to follow along.

The final incident took place walking to the bus stop on the way home. Three young men‚in their twenties—were standing in front of a storefront sharing a drink out of the same paper cup. At some point one guy didn't like something the other had said and he swung his hand violently and knocked the cup out of the other guy's hand.

This was right downtown and the sidewalk was packed with people. The contents hit at least a dozen people but I got the brunt of it. Whisky! In the face! Before breakfast!

These people all had something in common. They have a way of living, habits they have let develop over their lives, that sprawl all over the place and cause discomfort and suffering for others. And part of what was driving this in all three cases was a desperate need for recognition. They need other people to see them and notice them.

And then I got on the bus home. And I smell like a distillery. And I have this growing need to start a conversation. I want someone, anyone, to say something to me so I can tell my story and tell it loud enough so that everyone on the bus can hear and so they won't think I'm a drunken businessman who had whiskey for breakfast.

Suddenly, I had my own desperate need for recognition.

I didn't though. I sat there with my head down, my knees and shoulders hunched so there would be lots of room for the person beside me on the bus seat.