By the grace of God, I’ve managed to get back into the habit of daily Mass. It really is a wonderful thing. Sometimes it can be difficult with my travel schedule, and it’s easy to make excuses for yourself if you want to.
Today my only option was an N.O. parish of the Strict Observance. Pictures of liturgical dancers and Santa on the altar promoted on their website, which I was tempted to post the pics but I will spare you. Presider/masonic sanctuary set-up in a once beautiful old church with the high altar ripped out. Confession Saturday only, 3:30-3:45pm (I’m not making this up).
I really didn’t want to go.
Then the thought dawned on me (grace): “You pathetic, pride-filled monster.”
I mean, if our Lord and Savior still lowers Himself to come down on that altar in that setting, and my response is that He’s not worth it if I have to endure even the slightest tinge of suffering or discomfort? Effeminacy much? And I seriously think I’m really prepared to be a martyr?
Anyway, I went. He was there. He helped me grow a little closer to Him today.