Michael Crook at Mass of Christmas Day 2025
Against my better judgement and will, I went to Christmas Mass this morning. The only reason that I went is because it’s a Holy Day of Obligation. That’s it. So, yes, I went this morning. Now, that’s 9:00, not Midnight Mass. Only one parish opted to offer that and I wasn’t willing to do that. For some reason, my very, very non-Catholic wife wanted to join me. Sure, why the hell not? I didn’t know that things would go sideways.
For the most part, Mass went as how it usually goes: slow-paced, unfancy and, quite frankly, boring. But I got through it. Until Communion. For the first time in the five years I’ve been going to my parish I was boxed in between a little old lady and my wife, who in turn was blocked by two mooks I’ve never seen before. After all, this is the day that Christmas Catholics actually, you know, show up.
Anyway, because there were several old people in the front row with me, the Eucharistic Minister came up to give her the host. She saw my situation and gave it to me as well, skipping my wife and moving to the others. That went fine, that was all well in good. Next came the blood. Another EM, a guy who looked like he was either 9/11 or 7/11. He shouldn’t have been allowed to serve in that capacity.
As for the blood, Habib was holding that, but had his back to us, meaning that he ignored mostly old people. He refused to acknowledge us and that’s when I lost it. Rather than sitting there taking it, I did what I had to do. I climbed over the barrier that separates the first row from the rest of the sanctuary. No easy task as it was never designed to serve as a launching pad. I then approached our resident terrorist and grabbed the chalice.
Those of you who know me know exactly where this is headed. I stopped the next person in line and turned him around. I forcibly but gently removed the chalice from his hands and took my sip. I then said, “body of Christ, bitch.” I then walked away, jaws dropping as I left. I then climbed right back over and calmly sat down.
After Mass ended, the little old lady apologized for not moving. To that I then advised her to, “go to Hell!” I did so loud enough for everyone to hear, because…well, it’s me.
After the priest finished his usual chatting with other parishioners, he stopped me and told me that my way of taking the blood of Christ was “something I’ve never seen before.” I explained why I did what I did and he thought about it for a moment and then said, “Well, Michael, you did what you had to do, I’ll give you that!”
He then advised me that telling little old ladies to go anywhere, at least in Mass, is not the best way to conduct oneself. I advised him that would do it again if I had to. He said he understood and walked away.
Now, do I have any regrets regarding how I handled things? No. Will I do it again if the same situation arises? Absolutely! And again, those of you who personally know me are not shocked by any of this. I am not a kind person, nor am I in anyway respectful towards people who disrespect me, whether intentionally or not.
And while we’re at it, to the left and above, have a picture of me from today’s Mass. I was standing next to the priest. I have cropped him out as he does not need to be dragged into this. You will see me holding various things, not the least of which is a pile of worship aids and bulletins.
As part of my usherly duties, I always go around and pick up after people after Mass has ended. Today, a ton of people treated the room like they likely treat their homes. I find this behavior to be offensive, but we are talking about Convenient Catholics here, so I suppose I should not be surprised.
So there we have it. Oh, and one fellow parishioner passed by me and said for me to remind him to never get me upset. Good man.