The mystery of communion in the tedium of the mass.
I remember being in church at age six or seven waiting for that moment, when the altar boys rang their bells and bread and wine became body and blood.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
My Blog List
-
-
-
Artists in the Kitchen5 years ago
-
Reader, I Married Him8 years ago
-
2016 Richmond Mayoral Election9 years ago
-
-
Why the Iliad?10 years ago
-
-
-
Movin' on over13 years ago
-
A Bar Called Kokie’s13 years ago
-
Holy Frig13 years ago
-
-
New Blog Home14 years ago
-
Preparing the New Book14 years ago
-
Irvine Voodoo15 years ago
-
Reality Intrudes into the Media15 years ago
-
-
-
-
4 comments:
I was an altar boy, and I used to relish the moment at which I'd ring the bell. There was a funny little power trip to delaying it for the tiniest fraction of a second. I haven't been to a mass in a while, but I'm still enamored of Catholic ceremonial pomp.
I always liked the singing. There was a weird mystical quality to hymns; it was strange & fascinating that certain songs-- and not others!-- were ones that God was listening to.
The transcendence of the consecration amid the mundanity of the liturgy is a glimpse of eternity poking through time. My father used to emphasize the fact that a priest could be a lush, a louse, a grievous sinner, and could still perform the miracle of the consecration. I always liked that.
if you'd like, send me an email and we can talk more about it ;)
Post a Comment