Nyec bedzie pocwalony jesus christus!

“Nyec bedzie pocwalony Jesus Christus,” the choir director said in Polish. “Praised Be Jesus Christ.” She then launched into her welcome to the Christmas concert that her parish choir was going to do.

“Good evening and thank you for supporting your parish,” she said in Polish. “We have put together a program of Christmas music that we will perform for you this evening. You will be able to follow it in the program in your pews.”

She then switched to English by saying, “Before we begin, I just want to

tell you that our young parish choir singer Adelaide Mackiewicz was convicted of first degree murder this morning in the shooting death of her physically and sexually abusive father, who was also a police officer with the Periwinkle Village police department.

He was a very corrupt cop and he got what he deserved, treating his family in particular, and the community in general, like crap. “He was accused several times by the pastoral staff of taking money out of our poor box and using it for his sexual offenses. He was also involved in

mismanagement of our funds while he was financial director of our parish.

When we fired him, he all told us to go to Hell.

“Since this was a capital offense case involving the death of a police officer, she is facing the possibility of being sent out of state to be executed.

The penalty phase of the trial begins on Monday, so we’ll be watching closely what happens. We have to pray for her and hope that the jury will spare her this extreme sentence. That’s why we dedicate tonight’s concert to her. Let’s begin with our processional song.”

The processional music began as the director led the congregation in song.

The children’s chorus came out first dressed in white and red choir robes, followed by the entire adult choir, who were dressed in black and whitetuxedos for the men and pantsuits for the ladies, except for one of the young sopranos who was wearing a pleated miniskirt. This caused a bit of consternation in the audience.

“What’s Julia doing wearing a short skirt?”

“She’s trying to show her legs off.”

“I wonder who said she could dress up like a tramp.”

“Sacrilege!”

“Isn’t she one of the sopranos?”

“Yes, and she’s wearing it because she hasn’t got black slacks. Besides, the skirt’s black.”

“Oh, Jeez Louise!”

This was my first time coming to the Polish Church of St. Stanislaus on Attila the Hun Avenue for their annual Christmas concert. I’m usually singing with the choir at Holy Rosary Church on Pontius Pilate Boulevard here in

Beltsville, but I wanted to see what the whole thing was about.

I noticed that there were several cameras around the church. The pastor, Fr. Lucian Mikolajewski, told me that it was being streamed around the world on the parish web site, and that Westwood One would be picking up the broadcast for one of their music networks.

The whole program was written in Polish, so I couldn’t exactly go on what was being sung. Only 2 English selections would be heard-“Coventry Carol” and “Gift of Love.” Everything

else would be in Polish, except for a bilingual sing along at the end of the night.

After Fr. Mikolajewski welcomed the congregation in Polish and English, the choir began with a song called “Lulajze Jezinu,” which means “Sleep, Little Jesus.” Suddenly, someone stood up and started shouting at the choir.

“Hey, bitch!” the man behind me shouted. “How come you’re wearing a pleated miniskirt? Are you a school girl or something?” I was forced to move out of the way.

The choir stopped singing and started shouting expletives in Polish and English. The director came over to the man and said, “Please remove yourself from the church immediately.”

“No wonder this church sucks!” the man said. “I’d like to invite all of you to come to the Universal Church of the Cross and Tobacco Leaf just across the street tomorrow at 9 a.m. for services.

You gotta have a government i.d., since we use tobacco in our…”

“Get out of here, you jerk!” the choir director said. “Before I have you thrown out!”

“Bullshit!” the man said, storming onto the aisle. “Fuck you!” And as he left the sanctuary, he had his hand in his pants.

“Sacrilege!” one of the men in the back of the church shouted at him. He replied by giving him the finger as he walked out the door. The choir restarted the song at the very beginning.

“No wonder Polish culture is dying in this town,” the man said. “I mean adding Masses here in Latin and Spanish was the only way to keep this parish open. For what?”

The choir sang through to the end followed by applause. An alto came to the microphone and read a poem in Polish. A man sitting next to me said that it was about how the Bethlehem story could be played out in our own day and age. Midway through the poem, she started laughing like a hyena.

“What’s gotten into you?” the choir director said.

“Sorry,” the alto said. “That jerk had his hands in his pants…” She burst out laughing again, causing the choir to shout her down. People started getting

up and leaving the church, while some others started laughing.

The choir director asked people in Polish to calm down, but was unable to get that done. And then she said in English, “Due to circumstances beyond our control, the rest of this concert has been cancelled. Let us please leave the church slowly and quietly. Thank you.”

I walked out of there feeling disgusted. I’d come to the church to hear Polish Christmas carols and I’d walked into an accusation of sacrilege.

When I got home, I turned on the TV. To

my disgust, it was all over the Providence and Boston newscasts.

“A Beltsville Polish parish had its annual Christmas Concert shot down when someone started acting belligerent at one of the sopranos who was wearing a black miniskirt…”

“The pastor, Fr. Lucian Mikolajewski, told Newswatch 10 that the attendee in question was conducting himself in a lewd manner after being asked to leave the church…”

“When Myra started laughing, we started berating her because she thought it was funny. It wasn’t!”

“I don’t know why people were commenting about my outfit. I haven’t got black trousers. I prefer wearing a black skirt when I’m here on Sunday and the choir doesn’t make a great deal…”

“One of the people in the audience told me that it was the man sitting behind him who started the incident…”

“I can’t believe that my own choir could act like this when someone stands

up and causes an action like this…I’m very disappointed in them…”

I turned off the TV and wondered if it was right to go to that church. I wasn’t really prepared for an incident like this.

When I went to Mass at my own parish in the morning, I wondered what reaction I’d get.

Fortunately, no one had any questions for me when I went to Mass the next morning. I just told them what happened and that I’d kept to myself and tried to stay calm in spite of the situation. In crises like these, it’s all you can do.

Before the Mass, Ms. Jana Banacek, the choir director at our parish made comments to the congregation on the incident the previous evening. “I’m very disappointed that my sister Monica Banacek, who’s the choir director down at St. Stanislaus, lost control of the situation and closed down the concert,” she said. “It’s a disgrace to our heritage and the celebration of the Savior’s birthday.”

Oh, my gosh! My choir director’s sister leads the choir at St. Stanislaus. I didn’t make any more comments. We decided to offer our Mass for her choir

that morning. After all, when it comes to music, we’re all family.