A few years ago, my friend’s father died. He was happily married for 54 years to his wife and best friend, and they had six children together. He was an active parishioner at St. Robert Bellarmine parish for 42 years, serving on the parish council and Pre-Cana team. He organized their parish March for Life bus trip to Washington, D.C., with his wife, and he served as a lector, extraordinary minister, and a weekday altar server. He was a good and thoroughly Catholic man.
It should be enough to be a good man in this life. When I walk into my local Catholic church on the Mondays when they have the Blessed Sacrament exposed, I am among twenty or so other people reciting the Rosary and adoring the Lord. That I am one of the only ones without gray hair is not lost on me.
On what grounds would one criticize such a scene, though? These are folks active in their parish, actively seeking silence with our Lord, giving homage to Our Lady. I do not know the state of their hearts, obviously, but I would wager most are not falling victim to the slavery of mortal sin on a regular basis and that they are walking in a state of grace. These are good things.
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