I did, yesterday afternoon at St. Patrick Roman Catholic Church in Weston, West Virginia. The checs and I, along with ByzCat and her family and literally hundreds of other Catholics from all over, assisted at the Solemn High Mass for the Second Sunday after Easter, according to the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (Tridentine Mass, for those of you who missed B16’s motu proprio).
You’re going to have to be patient and wait for pictures until I get the film developed, as the Church was too pretty to entrust images to my little cheesy camera phone.
Father Grassi, the celebrant, was richly and ornately vested in a gorgeous gold fiddleback chasuble that looked like it had been borrowed from His Holiness himself. The servers were elegant and reverent in black cassocks and blinding white surplices. A friend’s son was the crucifer.
The organist was imported, as were the members of the choir. All volunteer and EXTREMELY well done.
Did I mention the Church was packed? Practically to the rafters. I saw room for 3 people to sit down, and that’s it.
I have to admit, when I first heard about this Mass and made plans to attend, I thought maybe 75 to 100 people would be a good turnout. After all, if you look at where Weston is on the map, it’s not exactly in the middle of things. And I’ve posted before about some pretty pitiful things that have gone on in NO parishes in my neck of the woods (same diocese, although a different vicariate). From the state of affairs here locally, I thought any love for tradition had long been lost, replaced with that odd apathy that in my snarkier moments I equate with a wilful loss of Faith.
I have never been happier to have been shown to be wrong. I think it’s entirely possible that now, after a very long (40 years…..where have we heard about people wandering for that length of time…..) winter, the Latin Rite is about to see that ‘new springtime’ that was supposed to happen way back when.