I start cowbell lessons this weekend…

… The very nature of beauty appeals to us and draws in our souls. I know it can be called liturgical snobbery to prefer the smells and bells, but these smells and bells are so much more than liturgical perfunctory actions and meaningless pomp. They serve as concrete physical reminders of something very spiritual and supernatural taking place during the mass.

Example; this past weekend I invited my Unfortunate Liberal Friend to mass at my parish. This in itself is no small miracle. My friend, accustomed to hippy vigil masses with a musical preference for bongos and cow bells, asked me after mass if it was a special feast day or something because the choir sounded beautiful and the priest “went all out”.

Silly me. I thought every Sunday was a special day. She recognized that something important enough was taking place to warrant all the special attention given to the liturgy. So shouldn’t every Sunday deserve at least some amount of reverence? I hope she was impressed enough to come back to my parish. If not, maybe she’ll take back to her own parish the feeling that every mass is a special celebration deserving a little extra oomph.

Cowbell. Not just for feast days anymore.
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  • Good! She had an eye-opening experience, and perhaps you planted a seed.

    • I didn’t plant the seed, the mass and the priest did perhaps. But not me.