Sunday as it once was
Today we attended an Indult Tridentine Mass, known affectionately as the Old Mass. The antique wooden church was full of reminiscent old timers, and reverent young families, dressed in their Sunday best, anxious to share this treasure with their children. It was serene except for the ocasional BOOM of kneelers dropped by inexpert little hands, and hushed sibling scuffles. Communion was calm and meditative as"Panis Angelicus" lifted hearts to God, and I felt the gaze of the Church Triumphant looking down in approval at our efforts to create an acceptable sacrifice to Him.
Why can't Mass be this beautiful every week?!