A Tale of Two Masses

My post yesterday made me think of the other side of the coin: Masses that I have experienced as truly sacramental.

One was while I was attending a weekend course at a conference centre in Wales. Six of us were Catholics, including two priests.

On Sunday morning, we commandeered the library, one of the priests having offered to celebrate Mass. We gathered round a dark oak table to serve as altar, six ordinary people dressed in ordinary clothes, women and men.

The priest spoke the words of the sacrament quietly and reverently and we responded in the same way. After the bread and wine had been consecrated, the priest ate and drank and passed each in turn to the person next to him, who did the same, and so on, round our circle. No procession up to the altar, just each of us in turn standing in the place of Christ to our neighbour. A palpable sense of community.

The other Mass was very different. When my Father retired, he took Mum, my sister and me on a trip to Italy. He had been based there during World War II and it held both happy and sad memories for him. During the war, he had become friendly with an Italian priest, Father M. They kept in touch in the intervening years, and when the Italian trip was planned, of course we had to visit.

We arrived at Father M’s small village and went straight to the little Church were we knew Mass was about to start. As we went in, it seemed the entire village was there: a sea of black clothing and olive faces, some smooth and young, some lined and rough.

Father M, a wizened little man like a monkey, was facing the congregation from the altar. His face lit up as he saw us. We didn’t speak Italian (although Dad spoke a little) but we didn’t need any translation of the priest’s excited words to know that the whole congregation was being told of his old friend from England’s arrival with his family.

Gap-toothed grins from old women in black headscarves, our hands wrung by rough palms, children gazing wide-eyed, we were almost literally patted into our places in the pew by the assembled village. That whole community held us welcome in their hearts during the joyful celebration of Mass as old friends came together.

So on that happier note, I take my leave for a few days as I’m off to Turvey to co-lead an Enneagram weekend. Hope to be back blogging on Monday.

Be well, friends.