Saturday Mass

Usually I do not write about such things, however, yesterday was different. I usually go to Saturday Mass because the crowd is smaller and the atmosphere is more relaxed.

Last week I went on Sunday morning and was rather disconcerted because the music was bad, the homily was long, there were too many people and I did not feel well to begin with and had it not been for a young friend picking me up for Mass I would not have gone.

Yesterday, there was this stillness; the children were even quiet; the music was glorious…the young woman who plays the guitar and sings in a beautiful crystal clear voice hit every note and the young man, who was there the first time I ever attended this church was back; his voice reaches into the soul and soothes the spirit. I have never been to a more perfect mass.

Before I went in, I sat in the quiet oncoming dusk of evening with its tinted pink sky reading the catholic newspaper. There was an article causing me to pause and to question if I would really go in or not. Perhaps I did not belong.

Then the priest, whom I had never seen before, gave the homily and the gist, or what I brought away from this event, was that it did not matter what I had been before, he did not care (meaning Christ) and that all were welcome. The homily was based on the last shall be first and the first shall be last.

Now I have heard this many times but I had not heard this particular take on the story. The quietness of the sanctuary and the music with no off-key notes; the total quietness of the congregation; the day itself seemed incredible.

Experiences such as this are very rare for me.

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