I’m not going to debate why the Church veered away from saying her Masses in Latin sometime back in the 60’s.
What I do know for sure is that yesterday I attended my first Latin sung High Mass in over 45 years.
I can hardly put into words the uniqueness of reading along the Mass parts, in a language from which every English-speaking person subconsciously knows is akin to our dialect.
As we were preparing to receive, my son pointed out a note in the “follow along pamphlet,” that we were to take Communion in a kneeling position, without the use of hands.
Suddenly the memory of me, as a very young boy, kneeling beside my mom, waiting for the Priest to come by and give her the Blessed Sacrament, at the St. Mark’s Church railing, came rushing back.
I could see her dressed in her Sunday best, with dainty gloves and a tiny head covering.
I could sense the reverent anticipation.
I recall her serious and quiet repose as we walked back to our pew and she prayed with her head down for what always seemed to me like an eternity.
What could she have been saying to God that was so important?..I’d think.
Thank you Father for these amazing memories.
I’m adding something new to my list of “first things” I want to experience when I get to heaven.
1. Hear my dad whistle for me.
2. Taste fresh Kibbeh Nayeh from my Sittoo’s hand.
3. Go to Latin Mass with my mom.
Tu solus Dominus–You alone are Lord!