Free-lancing at the altar
Dominus Vobiscum: Notes from a massgoer's underground
In 2011 I wrote:
Like the TV detective Monk, I have a gift that is also a curse: I pay very close attention at Mass.
So when the priest veers away from the approved text, I hear it and fume. Used to. Now I go into my free-fly zone. Frequently.
In this zone, I wool-gather, daydream, write columns and imaginary sermons, etc. This means that one minute I’m saying “Lord hear our prayer” with the other faithful, next minute that I know about, I am rising for the Our Father.
Awful, I know. Can only say I’m working on it.
The paying close attention thing is a bigger problem.
The priest subs out “His” for “God’s,” “disciples” for “friends,” “Almighty God” for “Almighty Father,” etc. Two of these reduce masculine references, sparing feminist sensibilities. The other is apparently meant to de-emphasize levels of authority in favor of intimacy.
Irritating…
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