Falling In Love With The Mass

The celebration of the Mass began quietly. It was a chilly fall afternoon; and before Mass, parishioners were gathered in the narthex talking about the colder weather and the possibility of a harsh winter this year.

A few minutes into the Mass, an elderly parishioner slipped into his seat, right on the aisle.

The young family with the four daughters acknowledged his arrival, and then they listened to the first reading.

Sometime during the Liturgy of the Word, things changed.

The man slipped a bit. I was sitting across the aisle, a little behind him. He jerked his arm, and I thought he might be having a seizure. Then he settle down, and I thought he was okay.

He wasn't.

There was more jerking, and the color in his face changed from normal to ghastly.

Soon, there was no mistaking it. He was in trouble.

The tall man behind him tried to steady him, to no avail. That's when the pastoral associate and an usher walked up to the front of church to see if they could help.

Thank goodness for cell phones. Soon, an ambulance was called, and help arrived in minutes. The EMTs rolled in with a stretcher, and as they talked with the man, my pastor carried holy oil to him. As the medical team lifted him onto the stretcher, Father asked us to raise our hands in blessing while he placed the oil on the man's brow.

The medical professionals whisked our precious parishioner away, and we may all have breathed a collective breath as he was wheeled down the aisle.

I'm a cradle Catholic. That meant Mass first thing every morning in grade school with the Franciscan Sisters, and Mass even earlier in high school with the Benedictines. I'm sorry to say it has taken me a long time to appreciate the Mass, and even longer to fall in love with it.

One of the things that helped me was a "teaching Mass," which was held at my parish years ago. The church was almost full as our pastor and our pastoral associate began to explain the parts of the Mass.

We were reminded that the First Reading is our connection with all the saints of the Old Testament, and that the Second Reading offers words from the New Testament. The readings are on a three-year cycle, and a faithful Catholic will have heard much of the Bible proclaimed during that time.

During the teaching Mass, we learned that when we sing "Holy, Holy, Holy," we as humans are joining the seraphim in heaven as they offer their praises to God.

The words during the Consecration link us to the words Jesus said to his apostles in the Upper Room, and Communion will feed us for the coming week.

A few days after the episode at church, as I remembered that Mass, I thought about how it was a living breathing thing, about how there was time for us to actively pray for the sick among us, and about how we became the Body of Christ in those moments.

Good news: he's back attending daily Mass.