Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Ash Wednesday 2011 begins

Jack and Thom,
Good Morning, I love you
110309, 0957

Ash Wednesday, 2011. I woke up at 0445, having slept through the alarms at 0415 and 0430. Still, that left me plenty of time to get to 0645 Mass and be the second reader. Next thing I knew, it was 0607. Speed showering should be an Olympic sport!

I listen to Mike and Mike in the morning and can keep time with them fairly easily. In and out of the shower. Sport coat and tie for the reader role. Out the door at 0623.

It’s six miles to St Paul’s. Speed limit is 35. There is light traffic at 0635ish but there was enough traffic for me to have to wait at the end of our driveway – for traffic from the left and a car from the right before I burst out in front of the next car coming from the right. There’s the redlight at Old Battleground. Another redlight at Battleground. Short stops at each, the clock ticking. The next two lights are right turns – being out in front of the short traffic line, I sprinted from light to light. Even with a mustang, maxing speed on a city street, for stretches of about a half mile, how much can be ‘cut’ from a 12 minute drive?

I pulled into the St Paul parking lot at 0636 on the radio clock. There were maybe ten cars there. I was there way ahead of the congregation that would more than half fill the church by 0650. But, as reader, I’m suppose to be there early enough for the liturgical coordinator to know all the spots are covered. I was there before the second reader. (The other reader, marine sergeant was unloading his three children (2 to 5) from their suv when I was walking crossing the parking lot.)

We did our pre-Mass clarification of roles between we ‘extraordinary ministers’ (v. deacon and priest). I was comfortably in my seat reading for the umpteenth time today’s excerpt from 2nd Corinthians. Our pastor has a way of moving through the Mass with a speedy fluidity. He’s like a bowling ball rolling downhill. … The marine did he reading. He lead the responsorial psalm. He stepped back from the ambo. Did the short pause thingy. As he stepped toward the stairs off the altar area, I stood up. Our priest also stood up and whisked across the altar to the altar on his way to the ambo. Father rolled right into the Gospel.

After Mass our liturgical coordinator nudged me out of my rosary meditation to explain to me that Father thought the marine had done the two readings. Oh? How does that happen? How did he not know that the ‘second reading’ was the Responsorial Psalm and not the reading from Corinthians? First, the priest is focused. He’s got a rhythm for the Mass. He really doesn’t have to listen to the words – or even the reader’s lead and people’s response of the psalm. Second, his sermon was drawn totally from the Gospel. The other (three) readings were irrelevant to his role this morning. [Not to mention that one of the prayers of the faithful picked up one of the key lines from the Epistle.]

Oh well. Father did a comedic mea culpa re: cutting me off from the reading. I’m sure he’ll restrain his impulse to get on with it for the other Masses today.

Oh well. I did my part. Plus, I had the blessing of spending a week with the reading. We are ambassadors of Christ. Be reconciled with God. He made him sin who did not know sin. Do not receive the grace of God in vain. In an acceptable time I heard you. On the day of salvation I helped you. This is a very acceptable time. This is the day of salvation. Amen.

The rest of today is getting ahead on my faith formation classes and project preparation. I Then get ready for the weekend. All the while, fulfilling today’s fast and abstinence expectations – of me for me beyond the modern era relaxed rules. That on top of yesterday’s beginning of the process. One bagel for breakfast. A few cups of coffee while I was immersed in the laptop.

Til soon,
I love you
Dad
0931

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