PERSPECTIVE....

Long Time - No Blog - Sorry to all...

But now I have been esconsed in my new job for nine (9) months, and I have made (or perhaps re-made) the most wonderful discovery about towns, cities, money, and life in general...

First and Foremost, as the hit song by Mellencamp says, I was born in a small town. Now, after almost exactly 40 years, I have managed to get back to one. And I know that I am Home. Five Hundred miles further south perhaps - but home nonetheless. In the most amazing (puzzling) way, I feel more at home here, where I work (population ±24,000) after nine months than I do 30 miles north, where I live (population ±256,000), even though I have lived there for 40 years - i.e. my entire adult life.

And I have figured it out, or so I think. The difference is the DYNAMIC of the town. In a larger city, there are sooo many people that it is common to only associate with a tiny fraction of the population, and that fraction is one that has been selected almost excusively because they share so many common interests, perspectives and attitudes. You don't live "with" your fellow citizens, you simply compete for space. This same self-isolation applies economically as well as socially - most "city dwellers" share very little time or space with those not of their "class". An affect made more acute by the fact that there are SO many different "classes" separated by so many $$$.

In contrast, in a smaller town, bthere are far far fewer people to "group" with. And as an inevitable result everyone is forced to associate to a much larger degree with those "different" from them. It's learning to coexist by simply coexisting. And the beautiful part of that is a much larger degree of acceptance - or rather learning to accept - those who are different. And economically, because the stratification is much more limited, there is much more "coexistence" in that way too.

So as if by osmosis, you "learn" your fellow citizens, their quirks and "funnies" and learn how not just to live with them, but to DEAL WITH THEM!

Now all this isn't perfect, of course. There are bigots and idiots everywhere and there always will be. And some people are just anti-social to the point of sociopathy. But they are everywhere, and at least in a smaller town, you have a greater chance of knowing who they are and how to be wary of them.

Back Home Again

After some selfish cranking and consternation over the music at my "Home Church", I spent some weeks attending mass at a couple of other area parishes. As one might imaging, all were good - and bad - in their own way, But I am thankful for and appreciate them all very very much. Yet for the last three weeks I have been back "at home" just like I had been for so many years.

After some discussion with my wife, we decided that it was the right thing to do. I just don't feel comfortable with "parish hopping" on a weekly basis. Parishes should mean something. I remember a Robert Frost line that said "home is the place that, when you go there, they have to let you in". Well I know that that is not literally true in the Catholic Church. In a sense "home" is any church in the world where the Mass takes place. But still there is some comfort in going to a place where you know so may people, and they all treat you like you belong there. And mediocre music doesn't change that.

Also, I realize that the mass isn't about me. It is God's Mass and I am just lucky enough to be there. That said there are still some things that could make it much better, more reverent, or whatever. But those problems are by no means exclusive to Saint Benedict's. They are present most everywhere. Some in different ways, some to different extents, but still there. And GOD HIMSELF is still there, really there, present in the form of the Eucharist. He doesn't look down from on high and say "I'll take a pass on Saint Offkeys, that music stinks!!!!" He comes on down anyway. Even if there is a church full of people, and only one of them is there rightfully, really wanting and needing him, he's there.

Think about that!!! He KNOWS the music sucks! Heck he know's that it's gonna suck even before the first note is sung!!! But he still comes. He's still there. For us..... So I figure if He can stand it, then I can stand it.

And I ALSO figure the right response is to help make it better - for HIM - rather than Urinate and Moan and do nothing.

And though I am anxiously awaiting the opportunity to attend the local TLM - and every day I pray for the Mass of Ages to be a daily occurance at Saint Benedict's - I'll still be there, pretty much every Sunday, head down and praying as the publican prayed: "God have mercy on me, a sinner"

Sunday Mass

As per my new routine, I attended Mass this morning at Our Lady of Grace Church. It has been a bit of a tough adaptation to change from a routine of some 16 years or so, but I have begun to appreciate the change. The whole process being helped especially by the semi regular celebration of the mass by one Msgr. Joseph Showfety, my retired former Pastor and something of an institution in our Diocese. And without a doubt, the BEST homilist I have ever heard. INCREDIBLE depth of knowledge, ALWAYS on point, ALWAYS with enough background explanation that one can really appreciate the meaning of the readings, and ALWAYS engaging.

As much as it breaks my heart to have "lost" my old church, I have really come to enjoy the new. Maybe I am being silly to have been chased away by something as superficial as musical accompaniment, but I really don't know. Right or Wrong, at least now I leave mass feeling full of Grace and God's love, instead of angry and with a knot in my gut. It reminds me, as I think of it, of something I read some time ago on Father Z's blog to the effect of Good music may not always draw people to the Church, but BAD music NEVER does.

Six Months On.

This past week marks a milestone in my career. I have now passed the six month mark in my employment in my new position, meaning two things - One, I am no longer on "double secret probation" and Two, I am no officially enrolled, for the first time in my recent life, in a honest - to - God retirement plan.

Again, reflecting on my job and the amazing fact that I have it at all, I pray for all of those who prayed for me during my months of unemployment. And I will always do so. Thanks to you all.....

HEY!!! WHERE'D MY CHURCH GO???

After attending the MEF (see previous posts) on Easter of this year, and then attending a different local parish (for schedule and logistical reasons) in the intervening weeks, I returned to my home parish for mass the past two Sundays. And what did I discover???

SOMEONE STOLE MY PARISH!!!

What was once the most dependably conservative and musically unpretentious Catholic parish in my city has been replaced by a "new and improved" version. Thanks to these reforms 11:00 AM Sunday mass now includes "canned" music and a Cantor-cum-semaphore operator up on the altar!!! Now I get to hear pre-recorded orchestral accompaniment to not only the hymns, but other parts too.
So this 100+ year old church, small and beautiful, and now featuring 101 strings style accompaniment for our singing!!!

I have been stewing over this for over a week, and the though that keeps coming to mind is WHO THE HELL THOUGH THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?

And aesthetics aside, isn't there a rule against prerecorded music in the mass?

The whole liturgical world is changing, reconnecting with the good aour ancestors lived and died for, but apparently there are some who havent noticed the writing on the wall - or simply ignore it.

Ordinary and Extraordinary reflections

Now a week and a day has passed since my second exposure to the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite. Time, and the experience yesterday of the Ordinary Form again has given me a bit more to reflect on, and the difference is even more striking.

Casting aside the obvious differences between the forms, such as language and posture, the MOST striking difference is one of continuity. Not continuity with the past, but continuity within the rite itself. With the Novus Ordo, there is a great deal of fussing about and going from one "step" to another. It isn't one celebration of the mass so much as a sequential compilation of parts. And no matter how hard I try, I often cannot get past the "when will this end" feeling of experiencing a seemigly endless torrent of disjointed and unrelated prayers. The trasition - in fact and in spirit - from one step to another is gone completely.

With the Old Mass, the experience is one of a continuum that leads slowly and inexorably to the sacrifice itself. Leaving one hearing the bells of the Consecration and trembling at the thought. It is a moving and beautiful experience that one can FEEL without actually being personally outwardly involved at all, but inwardly and on a level that defies description. In a very real sense, I felt that I didn't attend mass, but my SOUL did. It was as if my body carried my soul into the church and my chest opened up like a tabernacle, exposing my soul so it could participate in the sacrifice, only to close back securely at the end and say, in effect "you can go now". Leaving me to step out of that church filled with God's Grace.

It is the difference between a breathtakingly beautiful cathedral and the materials of the same cathedral, stacked up, crated and shrink-wrapped, ready to assemble. Imagine this: Could you take apart St. Peters, neatly stack all of the countless stones, glass pieces, tiles, frescoes, woodwork, and all of the other bits and pieces, look at those neat stacks and honestly - HONESTLY - say it was the same thing????

TLM TWO

By the grace of God, Easter Sunday was the second time of my adult life that I was priveledged to experience Mass in the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite...

And OH how I loved it! In spite of my longing for and predjudice in favor of the old mass, I was honestly unprepared for the way I was "drawn in" to the mass spiritually. In spite of not completely being able to keep up at times, I still felt like I was drawn in to the mass, almost organically. I suppose that is the way it is supposed to be, after all. The mass we describe as "according to the Missal of 1962" is actually the result of cenuries of evolution, all leading to a rite that could "draws in, organically" the generations who lived and died long before the idea of a "personal missal" which they could use to follow along. I found that my curiosity and desire to learn was the only reason to really follow along with the missal at all! I felt a part of the mass - the mystery - in a way I never have since I was a small child. I could go on, but it was beautiful and timeless and awe-inspiring and more words won't do any more to describe it.

As the saying goes - you had to be there.

As I said, this was my second "adult" TLM. My first TLM, last year at Our Lady of Grace in Greensboro (whre my daughter attends school) was a "special mass" which was attended by a massive crowd and while amazing (as I reported) it was not nearly as close or as intimate as what I experienced yesterday. Yesterday's mass was one of the regular bi-weekly masses which are offered at St. Benedict the Moor Church in Winston-Salem, NC. The building itself was small, intimate, and pretty. I cannot imagine a more perfect venue to experience the Mass of Ages "up close and personal". In fact, thanks to the enthusiasm of my daughter (who practically ran up the aisle), I was seated in the very first pew! This led to some embarassment at the very beginning of the mass, though, as my desire to show her the Missal and where we were in the mass (she loves to read along) led to a momentary distraction, leaving me (and her) standing when we should have been sitting - IN THE FRONT PEW.

But nonetheless I can honestly say: Ladies and Gentlemen, I have seen The Mass, and it works.