4 minute read
Something numinous
Lone Veiler on the joys of tradition
I'm not, if honest, at my best at 6.30 in the morning in the depths of winter, but who is? So getting up for Rorate Masses in Advent was something of a struggle. Waking everyone up, defogging the windscreen and scraping ice, and driving in the dark, freezing cold, desperate for my morning cuppa, doesn't put me in the best of moods.
As this year wasn't the first time I'd been to Rorate Masses, I was aware that, if I just got up and gritted my teeth, I would be rewarded with something both spooky and sublime. The church, in complete darkness save the candles blazing, and the sanctuary just glowing in flickering light, looked otherworldly and not just timeless, but out of time - heavenly in other words.
Of course, what always surprises some people is the number of children present. Yes, children, carrying candles, sitting still-ish and silent (for the most part!), while the liturgy unfolds in the dark. They just love it. And the symbolism of the dawn Mass isn't lost on them at all. Far from needing to have the Masses dumbed down, it was explained to me, by a child, that we go in with a candle expecting the light of the world to come, and as it gets light outside it reminds us that Jesus is coming and has come. Kids actually ask to go to these dawn Masses. They don't need any talking down to, they don't need to be told, their response to being treated maturely in the Faith is that they pretty much all behave maturely.
Which leads me to ask the question, who in their right minds ever thought that children's Masses, and liturgy, were ever going to actually give children what they need in terms of learning their faith? I don't like being patronised, do you? So why should children spend their formative years being patronised with ‘Jesus and Me colouring’, and not fit for purpose courses for First Holy Communion? Felt banners? Please no, just no. I have yet to meet a child who thinks they are anything other than hideous or hilarious, neither response is particularly conducive to concentration at Mass.
Now hang on, dear, I hear you cry, this is the LMS mag, we don't have anything to do with that sort of Nervous Disorder here. Well, yes, actually we do. Where do we believe most Catholics worship? I have a rather schizophrenic worship pattern entirely dependent on whether a Latin Mass is available. I have to live in both worlds,
whether I like it or not. And it does feel like living in two worlds; unpleasant, but that's the reality for most of us who yearn for the Latin Mass. The Rorate Masses I attended were NO. Would I have preferred Latin? Well what do you think, but as Masses that introduce kids to something of the numinous, sans kiddy worship songs and sending them out giving them the signal that bits of the Mass just aren't for them, they are wonderful. Of course numinous is something the Latin Mass just does, but to show children - and their parents - that there is another way to worship that involves contemplation, silence, spooky darkness, which might just spark a desire for more of it, has to be good. And who knows, a turn towards the Latin Mass? Well, I can dream.
It's not just early Masses that can spark an interest in traditional worship. Marian processions are being seen once again in my area, black vestments, Benediction, Rosary. All these things point towards the Latin Mass, even if not yet a full-on resurgence (a girl's gotta hope!).
It would be foolish though to ignore the antipathy of certain sectors of congregations - and dare I say clergy - to the merest hint of that most dreaded of all things, the 'return to the past'! I'm not sure there'll ever be a way to get through to that particular mindset, so I don't honestly think there's any point trying. It's enough for them to be horrified that I eschewed the folk Masses I was brought up with as soon as I realised there was an alternative, however irregular and far away, and wear a veil. That really does their heads in. Which is a shame, as once I discovered women could veil, I never looked back.
So, veiling. Does it make a difference? Personally, yes, I physically recognise Christ present in the Blessed Sacrament by wearing my veil, it's helped my prayer life enormously, also comes in handy as blinkers at the NO if custody of the eyes is called for.
Interestingly, where for years I was once the only veiler, I am now one of six. What does this mean? Something is changing for women? Women like lace? Women feel called to respond to the stifled and muffled call of Church tradition? I don't know, but it makes me happy to no longer be the only one. I think Our Lady is pleased too.
However, I'm not changing the name of this column to One of Six; it would make me sound like I'm part of the Borg collective in Star Trek Next Generation. Have I mentioned before that I really love Science Fiction…?
