After Mass, the Archbishop and clergy were greeting the people. I kissed the Archbishop’s ring and wished him a Merry Christmas.
Then I started chatting with Fr Klingele, one of the assistants who was a friend of mine. As we talked he mentioned that one of the three Masses of Christmas always gets forgotten. Every Parish has a Midnight Mass and a Mass During the Day, but almost none has the Mass at Dawn. He said he thought he’d celebrate it in the morning. I asked him what time and he replied 06.00. I told him I’d be there.
Then, I walked across the street to my house, only to be greeted by my son. He was already grown and had moved out, but he’d come home for Christmas and the annual trip here to Wilber on the weekend for Christmas at Great Grandma’s house.
He had fallen away, but he still liked to go to Midnight Mass. When I left for Mass I asked him if he wanted to come with me, Since I always went early to make my preparation, he said he’d come over later. He always sat in the back, in case he wanted to leave before Mass was over, but the Church was so crowded that by the time he showed up he ended up just standing in the back. When I came back from Communion, I didn’t see him. I just assumed he’d left.
The first thing he said to me when I returned to the house was, ‘Well that was a first! I got thrown out of Mass!’ I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had been standing in the back when an usher told him he had to sit down or leave.
(As an aside, I had a chat with Fr Klingele the next morning. That never happened again!)
At any rate, I told him that I was going to Mass at 06.00 if he wanted to come along. He told me to wake him up before I left and he’d decide then. So, at about five ’til six I woke him up. He groaned and said he’d decided not to go with me.
I walked across the street to the Church, where Father told me that we should probably lock the doors so we didn’t get interrupted by people showing up to decorate for Christmas. The next Mass wasn’t until 8.30, so that was the only thing that might happen. I walked to the back of the Church and locked the doors.
Father began the Mass, ‘In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.’ I know most of the responses to the Old Mass by heart, but I wasn’t prepared for the NO in Latin! We got through it with Father prompting me as necessary.
When we finished, he told me that it had been offered for an intention I’d asked for. A friend’s mother had recently died and I had told her I’d have a Mass offered for the repose of her soul. When I told her that the Mass had been in Latin, she said she was sure her mother would have appreciated that, because she’d never been very happy with the vernacular.
At any rate, when the Mass was over, I returned home to be greeted by my son, again. He said, ‘Well, that was another first! I got locked out of Mass!’ It turned out that just after I left, he had changed his mind and decided to come to Mass. Of course, whilst he was getting ready, I had locked the doors to the Church!
And that is the story of the first and only Novus Ordo Mass I’ve ever heard in the Language of the Church.
Then I started chatting with Fr Klingele, one of the assistants who was a friend of mine. As we talked he mentioned that one of the three Masses of Christmas always gets forgotten. Every Parish has a Midnight Mass and a Mass During the Day, but almost none has the Mass at Dawn. He said he thought he’d celebrate it in the morning. I asked him what time and he replied 06.00. I told him I’d be there.
Then, I walked across the street to my house, only to be greeted by my son. He was already grown and had moved out, but he’d come home for Christmas and the annual trip here to Wilber on the weekend for Christmas at Great Grandma’s house.
He had fallen away, but he still liked to go to Midnight Mass. When I left for Mass I asked him if he wanted to come with me, Since I always went early to make my preparation, he said he’d come over later. He always sat in the back, in case he wanted to leave before Mass was over, but the Church was so crowded that by the time he showed up he ended up just standing in the back. When I came back from Communion, I didn’t see him. I just assumed he’d left.
The first thing he said to me when I returned to the house was, ‘Well that was a first! I got thrown out of Mass!’ I asked him what had happened. He told me that he had been standing in the back when an usher told him he had to sit down or leave.
(As an aside, I had a chat with Fr Klingele the next morning. That never happened again!)
At any rate, I told him that I was going to Mass at 06.00 if he wanted to come along. He told me to wake him up before I left and he’d decide then. So, at about five ’til six I woke him up. He groaned and said he’d decided not to go with me.
I walked across the street to the Church, where Father told me that we should probably lock the doors so we didn’t get interrupted by people showing up to decorate for Christmas. The next Mass wasn’t until 8.30, so that was the only thing that might happen. I walked to the back of the Church and locked the doors.
Father began the Mass, ‘In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.’ I know most of the responses to the Old Mass by heart, but I wasn’t prepared for the NO in Latin! We got through it with Father prompting me as necessary.
When we finished, he told me that it had been offered for an intention I’d asked for. A friend’s mother had recently died and I had told her I’d have a Mass offered for the repose of her soul. When I told her that the Mass had been in Latin, she said she was sure her mother would have appreciated that, because she’d never been very happy with the vernacular.
At any rate, when the Mass was over, I returned home to be greeted by my son, again. He said, ‘Well, that was another first! I got locked out of Mass!’ It turned out that just after I left, he had changed his mind and decided to come to Mass. Of course, whilst he was getting ready, I had locked the doors to the Church!
And that is the story of the first and only Novus Ordo Mass I’ve ever heard in the Language of the Church.
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