Gaudete!

Rejoice in the Lord always: again I say, rejoice. Let your modesty be known to all men: for the Lord is nigh. Be nothing solicitous: but in every thing by prayer let your petitions be made known to God.

I awoke today in a bad mood. The last thing on my mind was rejoicing. Quite honestly, this Advent has run away from me, and with it any contemplation of heavenly things. I have found it far easier getting carried away with earthly worries, like getting through each day at work, and looking for somewhere new to live. Ultimately, I have been preoccupied about my own affairs, and a sort of self-centredness (even if orientated towards my family rather than just myself) had ensued.

I even toyed with the idea of not bothering with Mass at all today. But, as my wife reminded me, the days we feel least inclined to attend Holy Mass are the very days we need it most. And so it was for me. I arrived in the little cloister chapel grumpy and tired, intent on fulfilling my obligation but in no way inclined towards participating fully as I should. However, the Lord had other plans. The liturgy itself begs God; "by the grace of Thy visitation, enlighten the darkness of our minds". This sentiment, uttered in today's collect, reawakened my need to appeal for God's grace and mercy. The Mass was sung, and the Introit "Gaudete, iterum dico vobis, Gaudete" which I opened this post with (from St Paul's letter to the Phillipians) reminded me of this Christian imperitive, and in the context of Advent, the looking forward to Christ's second coming.

The whole setting of the liturgy could not fail to stir my heart towards God, even though I was only expecting a Low Mass with relatively little solemnity. But a further cause for 'Gaudete' is the announcement today that the Birmingham Oratory Fathers have taken into consideration the needs of their faithful flock and, for an experimental period, will move the 1962 Latin Mass into the main church at the earlier time of 9:30am, commencing the Sunday after Christmas. I think this is a more traditional time for Mass, enabling even an overnight fast for those that way inclined. Most of all, it will be fitting that the older use of Mass will return to the High Altar, since Pope Benedict XVI has restored dignity to this use of the Roman Rite. It would be nice if this new slot were supported during the time of ad experimentum. Our family will certainly enjoy the silence and space in the weeks following Christmas very much. I'm afraid we had felt that we'd outgrown the cramped cloister chapel, and are reluctant to segregate ourselves from the rest of the parish to that degree!

The High Mass will follow directly after, as usual at 10:30am, in the Novus Ordo, but mainly in Latin with plainchant and polyphony from the professional Oratory Choir. Perhaps this link between the two will demonstrate further the continuity which the Holy Father is exorting us to realise and implement.

There need not be segregation if we realise we are all Catholics who can understand each other. That is what any Parish Church should demonstrate, and the Oratory is far from a litugical museum as some may think, but rather a living, active and passionate community, often transcending its geographical territory. It will be interesting to see whether having the old Mass in the main Church will open the door to a newer and larger attendence. The best attended Mass on Sunday is incidentally the 12 o'clock Low Mass designated for 'families with small children'. It is indeed encouraging that so many families make it to Church, and are welcome at all masses the Fathers provide.

In conclusion, today's liturgy taught me that, in all our affairs and worries, we must offer to God our whole heart with joy and thanksgiving. Nothing must turn us inwards, and make us feel anxious or concerned about trivial affairs: we must have our hearts and minds on heavenly things, as the cause and completion of our every work. If we struggle to do this, as I have recently, then we should ask God all the more to enlighten the darkness of our human minds with the light of divinity, made perfectly clear in the vivid image of the Nativity.