Grown men curtsey where angels fear to tread.

I'm not alone in lamenting the loss of respect for the Blessed Sacrament in our parishes today. It seems to be a widespread problem, at least in North America. On any given Sunday you can see people (many chewing gum) saunter into church and slide into their pews without so much as a glance in the Tabernacle's direction. (Yes, I know--as Mom used to say--you should be praying, not gawking around at other people in church, but sometimes you just can't help yourself.)

It would be convenient to huff "Kids these days..." and blame the younger set, but the truth is you see people of all ages, from six to sixty-five, who fail to reverence the Blessed Sacrament. You can scarcely fault anyone under thirty-five for not knowing what to do when they enter a church. Post-conciliar catechesis on the Eucharist has been at best watered-down; at worst, heterodox. (I can still remember comments like "The Eucharist is just a family meal" or "Once the people leave the church, it's just an ordinary building."). The majority of those unfortunate enough to be catechized in the 70's and 80's now have very little to pass on to their own children.

Perhaps more distressing is when you see the older generation (who presumably "know better") act with seemingly little reverence toward Christ's presence. I've seen many an older man perform what appears to be an absent-minded curtsey before entering the pew. On a recent visit to another parish, I saw one well-dressed fifty-something lady enter the church near the front, close to where the Tabernacle was situated. She didn't bother to turn around and face the Tabernacle, but simply threw a backward glance over her shoulder and jerked her neck (as a rooster does just before it crows). At first I thought she had something caught in her throat; then I realized that the strange little nod was her version of a solemn bow.

I should hasten to say these people are not physically disabled in any way. I well understand that someone with arthritic knees cannot perform a full genuflection. This is why the Church suggests a reverent bow (preferably from the waist) as an alternative way of acknowledging Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. A lot of these curtseying men can be seen later on the golf course or at the local bowling alley. (In my more cynical moments, I wonder if they could get down on one knee if there was a $50 bill lying at the foot of their pew.)

Faith and attitude are the key ingredients here, not just action. Our priest likes to tell about the time (many years back) when a group of boys from the parish went to the movie theatre and solemnly genuflected before entering their row of seats. You've got to know why you're doing something, not just have a vague notion that something ought to be done. Others can tell by your attitude whether or not you're partaking in prayer (and reverencing Christ in the Tabernacle is a prayer) or whether you're just absently performing a time-worn habit. It's necessary to focus mentally on what you're doing. Pray to Jesus, even if it's just a short salutation, such as "My Lord and my God." I tell my smaller children to say, "Good morning, Jesus," or some other simple greeting when they genuflect before the Tabernacle.

Of course all this presumes there is still a Tabernacle to reverence. It's distressing that there's an agenda afoot in many parishes to hide the Tabernacle from plain sight, or to banish it altogether from the church proper. It's ironic that many theologians use the general lack of respect for the Eucharist (which they fostered in the first place) as the excuse to remove the Tabernacle from church. I think we could turn the situation around, and restore the Blessed Sacrament to its rightful place in our parishes. All it takes is hierarchical leadership worthy of the name, some solid preaching from the pulpit, and an awakening in our own hearts. You may have little control over the first two, but the third is entirely up to you. Next time you go to church, be sure to venerate your Eucharistic Lord.

Mariette Ulrich is from Scott, SK. Her column appears every other month.