End Credits and Church

It's pretty common now. You go to the movies. You watch a film. You love it, hate it, tolerate it, or whatever. You've sat in one place for an hour and a half...

...or three, if you're being subjected to the "genius" of Peter Jackson - a friend once told me, "brevity is a virtue." I sure wish that the New Zealander could learn that lesson. I'd be more likely to see his films.

Anyway, so you've sat there for a while, lazily taking in the sublime sights and sounds of the silver screen, and there at the very end, the screen goes dark and the score shifts gears:

Cue the end credits.

It used to be at this point that we all got up and left the theater. The music and the scrolling text provided a more or less quiet background to the exit conversation we were bound to be having, white noise underlying the mutual exchange of our immediate responses to the film. "That was terrible." "How 'bout the part when..." "That was awesome." "What a great soundtrack."

My point being: no one stayed. We all left. There was nothing to stay for. The show was over.

That's the way things used to be, and, I guess, for certain kinds of films, they still are. No one sits through the credits of a drama expecting some surprise at the end.

But for a great number of the films we go see nowadays, we are left bolted to our seat. For some movies, we know for sure something is coming at the end (basically any Marvel movie ever made). But for many others, we just don't know, so we wait (or those of us that care wait). We sit there impatiently waiting through the credits because it has become expected that there be what is called (among other things) a "stinger."

There's a whole Wikipedia page dedicated to it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post-credits_scene

We've been trained to sit there in the theater, watching a bunch of names we don't know and jobs we don't understand (key grip? best boy? wrangler?), in the hopes there be a little lagniappe waiting for us at the end.

...and sometimes there's not.

We have come to be able to sit through 3-8 minutes of information we have no need of, in hopes of something that might not be there. I mean no disrespect to all the hard work put in by all those nearly nameless folks that crawl by. (It just occurred to me that if I were in fact one of those people to have their names in the credits, I would care a great deal about it.) And there's inevitably that one actor or actress whose name we can't remember during the picture, so the credits can help us out there. But for the most part, we're just sitting there not knowing why, not sure if we even need to be there, and painfully postponing our (much needed) visit to the restroom on the way out of the multiplex.

We've already seen the movie. If there was something essential, we've already witnessed it. This extra bit is only going to hint at the sequel or give us one last joke. (And I'm NOT saying we shouldn't wait! Of course we should - I don't want to miss anything. It's expensive to go to the movies, and I plan on getting my money's worth.)

We wait 3-8 minutes, for a very small pay off, that oftentimes is not even guaranteed. We are actually a very patient species, when given the right motivation. We're willing to sit there waiting if only for just one more tiny dose of entertainment.

Now, brace yourselves for a (perhaps) contrived analogy:

Why do people leave Mass right after Communion?

It's because the Prayer after Communion, the final blessing, the dismissal, the recessional hymn or postlude, and (without a doubt) the announcements are about as meaningful to us as the end credits of a movie. Unless they directly affect us, or we're required to be there because we're in the choir or in the procession or whatever, we don't see the need to stay. We've already received Communion - what else is there?

There is a significant portion of the Mass that many people don't consider to be worth their time. That's a big problem, however commonplace it may be. (There are always exceptions, I know. I'm not writing this to point fingers, people. I don't even notice who leaves - I just notice that there are fewer people in the Church after communion than before. It's hard not to.)

So what's the solution? include some kind of prize at the end of Mass to entice people into staying? some kind of reward for sitting through the credits? some kind of teaser that hints at why we should come back for the sequel (next Sunday's Mass)?

No.

No. No. No. Absolutely not. People don't need to be kept in church with fly paper, at least I don't think so anyway.

Instead, maybe we need to do a better job of explaining why those things after communion are less like the end credits and more like the denouement of the Mass: still part of the movie, still something you don't want to miss, yet it has begun winding down, transitioning us back into the task of bringing heaven into our daily lives, not simply experiencing it for one hour (or less... or more) on Sunday. And so, as a way of forcing myself to blog more, and hopefully to combat even in a small way the steady yet premature flow of the congregation out the church doors, I'm going to write for the next few weeks about why each of those things (the Prayer after Communion, the final blessing, the dismissal, the recessional hymn or postlude, and yes even the announcements) is worth our time, both of itself and in relation to the rest of the Mass and our daily lives.