Cranky Question

Is it appropriate to sing “America the Beautiful” while waiting in line for Communion during Mass?

I know it’s Memorial Day weekend and we need to remember those who lost their lives in service to our country. I wholeheartedly dig that. The Priest at Mass mentioned it as part of his homily and the remembrance fit nicely. So here comes the highlight of the liturgy and with accompanying vocalist, the organ pumps out,

O beautiful, for spacious skies,

For amber waves of grain,

For purple mountain majesties

Above the fruited plain!

America! America! God shed His grace on thee,

And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea.

What does that have to do with worshipping God? The song was so loud, I had trouble concentrating.

I’m sorry…but the song was VERY inappropriate for the occasion. There will be other times this weekend where performing the song will be right but when receiving the adorable host isn’t one of them.

Crank mode: Off.

Sitting in the Courtyard

As a Protestant I had this image/vision/daydream of sitting in Heaven in the courtyard, while everyone else was in God’s presence in some unsee-able building. That was o.k. with me. I preferred sitting on the courtyard steps if that was all I was allowed to do. I think I got that image from Psalm 100:4

Enter the temple gates with praise, its courts with thanksgiving. Give thanks to God, bless his name;

Well, that image has stayed with me for years. Two years ago when I started the Catholic journey, I learned about Eucharistic Adoration.  Not knowing what to expect I drove to the chapel for the scheduled Adoration. The gathered group prayed the Divine Mercy Chaplet and the rest of the time was spent in silent prayer.

In the silence my image jumped out. It was not in some unknowing future but NOW I was sitting in the courtyard. I was worshipping Him with Him right in front of me. This morning I drove over to church, spent about 30 minutes praying the Rosary and just sitting in silence. Driving away, I felt imprinted deep down. I always get that impression.

What an incredible gift.

Ashes

Remember, man, you are dust

and to dust you will return.

I grew up in a low-church protestant tradition, so Lent was never on the radar screen. In my twenties, I attended a Southern Baptist church in Chelsea, MA. On the way to church, I would pass a very large Catholic church. I wondered at the purple cloth draped around the outdoor cross which became white on Easter. When I understood, I loved the symbolism.

Around this same time, I got ashes on my forehead on Ash Wednesday at St. Anthony’s in downtown Boston, again, because I loved the symbolism. At the time, I didn’t know the ashes came from the previous year’s Holy Week palms. I remember that first time at St. A’s. I sat in the pews for a few minutes to watch so I knew what to do. There’s nothing to it.

This morning I received my ashes and heard those words from Genesis: Remember, man, you are dust…

Old School

Today, Hubby and I attended a Tridentine Mass, a.k.a. the LATIN MASS in central Massachusetts. Many years ago, in my Protestant days, I sat through one and didn’t understand a blessed thing but I appreciated the reverence. This time, with nearly two years of Novus Ordo under my belt, I was able to follow along despite the dead language barrier. Hubs and I rose and knelt with the best of them, perhaps just a half-second behind.

I’m quite happy with the new-fangled liturgy (40+ years and counting) and wouldn’t mind attending other Latin Masses (as long as there were folks I could follow.) But what struck me during the mass was not so much the precise movements of the priest and altar servers but the attentive worshipers.

Attending other parishes, Hubby and I are struck by the lack of reverence by the congregants and the priests. At one parish the priest skipped the homily, Creed and intentions. No wonder that after Mass, folks fled the sanctuary like rats from a sinking ship. If the priest doesn’t want to be there, why should they? Last summer, I visited a local parish for an early morning Sunday mass. I remember the altar server was this swarthy teenager who stood next to the priest, facing the congregration, not paying attention to what was happening on the altar. He was checking out who was sitting in the pews. The priest sleptwalked through the liturgy. At this parish I noticed about a third “ate and ran.” A few weeks back, I wrote about a different parish which catered to the worshippers needs. It seemed God was secondary. (The homily theme: greatness is measured in how you make others feel great. ARGH!) Hubby and I like the parish we attend now but there is not that same INTENSITY that I felt and witnessed at the Latin Mass.

Mantilla Mania!

When entering, the Rosary was in progress.Were there crying babies and impatient toddlers? Sure. But the folks were not there to socialize in the sanctuary. I’ll admit, I liked seeing folks dressed up for church. Not a pair of jeans or Patriots jersey in sight. While waiting in the aisle for communion, no one spoke and no one “ate and ran.” At the end, even though the priest had left the sanctuary, people sat in the pews until the candles were extinguished. There’s nothing wrong with that.

True worship where the created gives public reverence to the creator starts with a respect of the liturgy from priests and respect of God from parishioners. Both come out of a true loving relationship with God.