We stood in the front row, the one with the cushion on the pew, and he, my son, fidgeted with the seam in his shirt a bit while the rest of us made the sign of the cross. We could hear the responses of the 12 senior citizens standing in the pew directly behind us “And with your spirit”. It was a summer morning and I took my children to what they affectionately refer to as “short Mass”. Our daily morning Mass with no music, it has been stripped down to only the essentials and therefore only takes 30 minutes on the nose.
We stand on the altar at the back of the church where the choir normally sits on the weekend. Our pastor sits in the pew with us and when he celebrates the Liturgy of the Eucharist He faces the opposite way on the altar to face us. His hands grasp the plate and the chalice holding the body and blood of Christ and He raises it and speaks to God on our behalf. We are close enough to hear the pages turn as he reads from the book and see the colors of his eyes when he raises them to the heavens.
He washes his hands not one foot from us and every one of my children are transfixed on the water. It is intimate and meaningful to experience Mass with only 12 others the same people are there each and every day. We stand in our Church with only the altar lights shining down upon us and we are a part of that solemn celebration of Jesus Christ. There is nothing I have experienced similar to “short Mass” it is precious to my heart. I pray that these moments will be as precious to each of my children when they one day fondly recall their mom taking them to “Short Mass” in the summer time.
Lori, this reflection reminds me of my granddaughter, Libby, who is now 10. I took her to morning Mass one summer when she was about 4. When we walked in, she said “where are all the people?” She immediately termed it “little church”!