The More He Explained, the Less I Believed
And that is what made the whole thing so strangely sad, because he seemed unable to trust that the liturgy itself could communicate what he believed.
It was our goddaughter’s First Holy Communion on Saturday.
The parish was new to us. The church was full, as you might imagine, and we found seats upstairs overlooking the nave below. Having attended the Tridentine Latin Mass for some years now, and a relatively reverent new rite mass before that, it had been a long time since I had experienced what might be called a very modern Mass.
It’s important to say at the outset that the priest was clearly sincere.
He spoke about the importance of Confession. He invited non-Catholics to attend the parish’s OCIA programme. He spoke warmly and earnestly about Jesus. This was not a man who lacked faith, he genuinely believed that those children were about to receive Jesus Christ for the first time. Not symbolically or metaphorically, but Our Lord Himself; Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity.
And that is what made the whole thing so strangely sad, because he seemed unable to trust that the liturgy itself could communicate what he believed.
From the moment Mass began, I found my attention drifting. I thought about the errands I needed to run, whether Sainsbury’s would still be open afterwards, whether I had replied to my dad about the electricity bill he had queried. I kept willing myself back to prayerfulness, but everything appeared to thwart my efforts.
The hymn lyrics, along with the responses, were projected onto a large screen at the front of the church. The children came forward to read what turned out to be a simplified paraphrasing of scripture designed to communicate the general gist of St Paul’s words in a child friendly way. Then the priest preached an earnest homily before moving to the Liturgy of the Eucharist.
After the consecration, the children were invited to gather around the altar.
