The strategy of peace.

I was compelled to go to church yesterday on my own, which is always a little nerve-racking. Not that being a lone male is awful, but I have to say that people hear so many horror stories about weird loners that being a man on his own is often taken as suspicious. No wonder so many single men hang around bars. No one cares there.

The real issue is the Sign of Peace, that part of the Catholic Mass where the congregants are encouraged to give each other a sign of peace. You might hug and kiss family members and friends, but otherwise you shake hands with those around you, smile, wish them "Peace be with you" or "Peace of Jesus Christ be with you," or something like that. It's beautiful, really, it takes us out of our selves, it reinforces the community, and it is the most dreaded part of the Mass for mysophobes and the terminally shy. Little kids like being sweet and like fooling around, so they're okay with it, or they hide under Mommy's wing and look cute. Teenagers usually hate it like poison.

When I'm with my wife, she of course gets my blessing first; then I seek out those around me. When I'm there by myself, I start thinking about it early, to plan my attack -- usually at the Gospel reading, when it's safe to say we have everyone we're going to get. Yesterday I was at the last Mass of the day, the spottiest, which adds some challenge. Were it a packed Mass, like the 10:00 AM, I could just grab for the hands around me; were it very sparse, like a daily non-obligation morning Mass, I could sit away from everyone and just wave at them.

All right, let's scope out the churchgoers.

The handsome chap in the center of the diagram is, of course, your narrator. To my right is a single middle-aged lady (pink); there is another elderly lady on her own behind me (orange). In front of me is a man and his teenage son (purple) and a family of three ahead of them (yellow). Behind me is a mother and her two children (gray).

I quickly assess the situation and make my plan:

As a singleton I have to approach the other singletons first, and to prevent snubbing the church lady on the same pew as me, she is my first contact, followed by the one behind me. That puts me facing rear, a good position to wish peace to the mom next; the children are wild card. You never want to grab for a kid's hand, but if it is proffered, a smart, professional handshake is in order. Then I will turn and see if the man and his son are still doing peace, or if they've assumed a manly face-forward-hope-we-can-move-on-now posture. If the former, then bid them peace. Forget the family two pews up; if they turn I can give them a wave, but you never reach over two pews for anyone but a blood relation, and then only one you really like.

I was confident in my game plan, and indeed it worked out just as I'd expected. I silently complimented myself on my smart use of spacial awareness and peace strategy.

Now... what was the homily about, again?