Had a chance today to spout off at a men’s prayer meeting, came out (up: hadn’t thought it before quite this way) with: The mass could be in sanskrit, it wouldn’t make any difference. Point is, it’s a group experience of people gathered together to be part of something big. The priest drones on, I tune out so as to tune in on the big event, renewal of Christ’s sacrifice for all of us.
It’s not bingo night. Everybody there knows that. God bless the priest who comes and does it for us. I appreciate that very much. I just find it better if I pay little or no attention to his articulation of a text, which I nonetheless consider important. I’m not an iconoclast (I don’t think), but after a thousand or ten thousand times I get what’s happening. And I like it.