If Masses Were Men…
I went to my second ever Latin Mass.
And I’m pleased to report that it was slightly less disorientating than the first time. (See My First Latin Mass for all the disorientating weirdness.) But it was still ten different types of weird, and I still didn’t know what was going on. Apparently, this is a very normal response.
But oh my, it was beautiful. The music was to die for, the vestments were gorgeous, and the only glow was a golden one from flickering candles, and not a blue one from a malfunctioning power-point. (Not that I speak from personal experience…) It was just objectively, certifiably, stick-it-in-a-museum-and-charge-an-entrance-fee beautiful.









