I thought for a minute she was going to strike him as his presumption stirred her momentarily out of her sorrow into righteous anger.
I knew a bit of what she was feeling.
I have always disliked being "welcomed" to Mass, as it seems to me a claim of ownership by one group of people, and a labelling of others as... well, "other." (It strikes me as particularly goofy when a visiting priest on holiday says it to the nailed-down weekday Mass-goers. No matter.)
Further, I think it privileges the parochial over the universal, and we are Catholics, not congregationalists.
Hence, I find this an excellent blog:
I would like to think that I am a good house guest. I clean up after myself, I graciously thank my host, I offer to help, and I respect the life and lifestyle of my hosts. I used to think that is how I should show up to church. ...But God is not calling us to simply be a house guest, a temporary visitor, or an old friend who stops by on occasion.He has called us to truly dwell in His house...ask questions, have tough conversations, kick up your feet (figuratively) and get comfortable because this is not a three-day weekend, this is your life and soul—for eternity.
I'd quibble with the use of the word "comfortable," but I get it - she means the kind of "comfort" with which St. Paul reluctantly endured the thorn in his side - become accustomed, even resigned, create a worn spot in the pew varnish in the shape of your hind quarters.
And so like here, we should all proclaim,
I am rolling up my sleeves and taking up space.