The Lesson of the Stolen Pew: How God Used Sunlight and a Stranger to Humble Me

Every Sunday, we have “our” pew at Mass. It’s the same one, third row back, right side. It’s comfortable, it’s familiar, and I rely on that predictability. So, when we arrived at our most recent Mass and found another family comfortably settled in my spot, I got—to put it mildly—slightly askew.

With a sigh of quiet frustration, my family and I settled into the pew directly behind them.

And then, the universe (or perhaps a higher power) decided to teach me a lesson. The sun, perfectly positioned in the sky that morning, streamed through the window and landed squarely in my eye.

I was instantly aggravated. I leaned over to my daughter and whispered a less-than-charitable remark about the people in front of us “stealing” our pew and causing my discomfort. My attitude was, frankly, terrible.

The Moment of Humbling

About halfway through the Mass, the young mother in front of us quietly turned around. She looked back at me with a genuinely kind, concerned expression and said she was sorry if she wasn’t blocking the sun enough.

I froze.

The air went out of my sails instantly. I felt a wave of shame wash over me. I felt like an absolute fool, convinced she had heard my rude whisper to my daughter. Her humility and gentle concern stood in stark contrast to my own petty aggravation.

Setting the Example

After Mass ended, I couldn’t simply leave. My heart felt heavy, and I knew I had to make amends. I hung back, waiting for my family to file out, because I needed to apologize to this family.

I walked up to the mother, and I confessed my attitude. I told her I was sorry for being upset about the pew. To my surprise, she and her husband hadn’t actually heard my whispered remark—they were simply being observant and kind about the bright sun.

That didn’t matter. My apology wasn’t really for them; it was for me, and for the witness I needed to give my daughter.

I needed to make things right for two important reasons:

1. To right my own heart. My selfishness was a spiritual block. I needed to own my attitude and reset my focus on gratitude, not entitlement.
2. To set the right example for my daughter. I had whispered the rude remark to her in the first place, modeling uncharitable behavior. I needed to model humility and repentance just as powerfully.

The Temple and the Lesson

The irony was not lost on me when the readings that Sunday focused on the Temple—the Church—and how we are all temples. We are called to be living examples of Christ’s love, grace, and humility.

I truly love moments in which I am humbled. Yes, talk to me, God!

In that small moment, a sunbeam and a kind stranger showed me exactly where my temple needed cleaning. I was thoroughly humbled, just as I needed to be. A simple change of seating became a profound lesson in choosing Christian charity over petty annoyance. Next Sunday, wherever we sit, I’ll be focusing on the altar, not the upholstery.

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Have you ever had a small, unexpected moment that completely changed your perspective during church or worship?