‘Cry rooms’ have been a common sight in Catholic churches since the 1950s. Are they still worthwhile, or do they stigmatize parents with young children?
Around early 2016, I sat in the pews of St. Columba Cathedral in downtown Youngstown with my 2-year-old daughter. At that age, she was fairly quiet—except when we got to Mass. She liked to move around the pew and babble, especially during the most quiet and reverent times of the service and during Monsignor Peter Polando’s homilies. Naturally, I began to feel flustered when all of my methods (counting the beads on the wooden kid’s rosary, lining small Mickey Mouse figurines along the shelf that holds the missalettes) for keeping her occupied and mostly quiet seemed to fall through.
In the midst of my daughter’s giggling and rhyming and “mamas,” Monsignor Polando interrupted his homily to say, “Boy, do I love that sound. It means the children have come to Mass.” While I still could not settle my toddler for the rest of the service, I felt comforted by Monsignor’s words. His declaration that (even noisy!) children belong in mass was especially meaningful because St. Columba Cathedral does not house a “cry room” like several other churches across the Diocese.
What Are Cry Rooms?
Revisiting this fond memory at a time when my children are well out of the toddler years makes me consider the place and purpose of the cry room. These rooms, which gained popularity in the 1950s, were designed to give families with restless or crying children a place to calm and soothe them outside of the nave. Most cry rooms have speakers so families can still listen to and participate in the mass.
On that Sunday in 2016, I have to say I felt a little panicky without the option to remove my very talkative toddler from the congregation. If it weren’t for Monsignor’s kind and encouraging words, I may have left mass early, compromising my weekly obligation to attend on Sundays. Plus, obligation aside, I would have missed out on the spiritual connection and reverence I look forward to each weekend. I appreciated Monsignor’s words and encouragement, but I certainly wouldn’t have minded a sound-proof room which enabled me to focus on the liturgy and the miracle of the Eucharist instead of focusing on ways to try to calm my restless child.
Should I Stay or Should I Go (To the Cry Room)
Many millennial-aged Catholic parents feel the same: We want the option of the cry room, but we don’t want the obligation to remove our children from mass simply because they don’t fit the typical description of “calm and reverent.” We desire to practice our faith on a deep level, and despite Canon Law which states that children under age 7 are not held to the weekly obligation to attend mass, we prefer to help our children practice their faith as well. Cry rooms may help us expose our children to the beauty and purpose of mass while still allowing us to experience it for ourselves.
Speaking of fully experiencing mass and all of its beauty and miracles, I was always conscious of how my restless children may have compromised that for other parishioners. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel embarrassed that my children may have been garnering more attention than the priest or deacon reading the Gospel. During moments like these, some clergy provide a gentle reminder that the church does have a cry room and that young families are welcome to use it.
Some parishioners are thankful for messaging like this and the quiet, reverent experience that it provides. Others feel the opposite, and this is where perspectives on cry rooms truly begin to divide.
Making Parents Feel Welcome
There really isn’t a clear code of conduct that outlines the purpose of cry rooms and behavior of children in church, and so much depends on the culture of the clergy and parishioners. Clearly, some churches do not have cry rooms. Other churches employ the religious education director to take the children to a classroom to learn about the Gospel in an accessible way for their age. And some strongly encourage children to join the full congregation no matter what.
The St. Charles location of St. Catherine of Siena Parish, for example, makes their desire to keep children present in mass very clear. The pews are lined with a laminated cutout that reminds parents to relax because “God put the wiggle” in their children. There’s also a note to the members of the church: “The presence of children is a gift to the Church and they are a reminder that our parish is growing. Please welcome our children and give a smile or a word of encouragement to their parents.”
I certainly would have appreciated that kind of reminder as a new, young parent who was working hard to fulfill my weekly obligation. I also want my children to remember mass as a place where their mother was happily joyous unto the Lord—rather than stressed and overwhelmed simply because they were doing what little kids do.
Cry rooms ultimately give parents choices, and whether we enjoyed mass from the cry room in the back of church or joined the congregation, I hope my children look back on their early days in Mass in a way that embodies Matthew 19:14 – “Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
