An usher walked ever so nonchalantly up to it and just shrugged his shoulders at the pastor
Last Sunday, we all arrived at church for the 8:30 Mass. Dressed in our Sunday best, plus masks, we all greeted one another and sat at least six feet apart. I really hate wearing masks; my face breaks out, my nose runs, and I just feel uncomfortable and hot. That’s on a good day, but last Sunday was not a good day. Even at 8:15, the thermostat was reading 87, which is typical for this part of the world. As more people filed in, sitting in only every other pew, I became increasingly aware that it was miserably hot in there. I figured the ushers hadn’t arrived early enough to turn on the a/c well enough in advance, and figured I would be feeling the a/c soon enough. It was not to be. Soon, people were fanning themselves with whatever they could find in their handbags. Mens coats began coming off. My lightweight over-top that covered up my too-revealing-for-church tank top had to stay on, but I didn’t want it to. I snuck over to the ushers and that’s when I learned that they had come in a whole hour early and set the thermostat to 70 degrees. The priest in his robes looked miserable. He kept glancing at the thermostat on the wall, and one time he pointed at the thermostat. An usher walked ever so nonchalantly up to it and just shrugged his shoulders at the pastor. He adjusted the thermostat down lower, but everyone knew it wasn’t going to do anything. It was painfully obvious that the HVAC was in need of repair and there would soon be a special collection.