Why I don't get a lot of out of the Liturgy (Part One)
Friends of mine goad me from time to time to join them at the Latin Mass Community (Most Precious Blood Parish) to attend the 8am Low or 11am High Masses. I have attended various times and despite the faded green carpet and some of the furniture worse for wear the stained glass windows speak of a yesteryear when the Liturgy and Church decor was of a different caliber. Compared to what I see at what one of those friends call "Circle Churches", i.e. Churches built in the 70s and 80s it is still a breath of fresh air. The fervor of the parishioners is palpable and the "richness" of the Liturgy of older times is still intact. That said, I still do not "get a lot of the Liturgy" here or anywhere else in general. Friends give me anything from curious glances to wide-eyed disbelief when I let the cat out of the bag that I understand the Latin spoken quite perfectly. Sometimes if I stand next to the speaker I can decipher the Latina Lingua with no written apparatus word-for-word in all its clarity despite the velocity with which it seems to be celebrated.
I was just a boy when I discovered the Liturgy. It was May 4, 1996. My first Communion. With a red and blue clip on tie I trod down the aisle to receive our Savior. Under-catechized and immature I received Him probably not completely aware of what I was doing. That said, a gift was given to me: a missal. It wasn't a thick missal. It was a small missal with the basic forms and words the Mass of Paul VI. I carried that missal with me to each mass and got to understand the parts of the Mass better and the words spoken by the priest in its richness.
At Fourteen, my first Faith crisis arose as I entered High School. The pressures of a larger crowd and what was perceivably my "world" become apparent. Jesus still spoke deep into my heart despite the noise that tried to drown Him out and He calmed the storms via Scott Hahn cassettes and long rides with my parents in their Dodge Caravan. On one particular road trip to Chicago Hahn's testimony reached deep into my soul and woke me up from my slumber. My faith wasn't front and center and I knew it had to become front and center.
At a Scott Hahn conference that spring, my mom ran into the Legionaries of Christ. She wanted to get me on a Jubilee 2000 Pilgrimage to Rome. That particular pilgrimage wasn't available to me but a trip to their Novitiate was. Over Christmas break I packed my bags and attended a live-in opportunity at the Novitiate. Full of young men from around the US and other parts, I felt the response to the challenge on the road trip to Chicago. For the first time, I witnessed a Liturgy well celebrated as many people do the first time they attend a Mass at a seminary or religious house of formation. Jesus spoke deep therein. The roar of Young novices replying audibly to each "the Lord be with you" moved me. The quiet and serenity of young men in Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament moved me. Young Men seeking to one day be ordained and be Ministers of God's Mercy via the Sacraments, Prayer, and Evangelization moved me.
Being naive I asked to be received into the Novitiate right away. The Brothers laughed.
"You have to graduate high school first", they said.
I was devastated. How would I make it out of four years of Public High School wanting to follow Christ again? That questioned dwelled in me and I began my struggle with the World, the Flesh, and Satan. I reach the Novitiate once more during Easter Break. That time some of the Brothers confided to me that there was something called a "Minor Seminary" or "High School Seminary" located in New Hampshire mountains for kids like me. I paused.
"Why didn't you tell me the last time I was here", I thought quizzically.
"What took you so long? When can I go there?", I asked.
To be continued...
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