There’s a funny trend going on in regards to Midnight Mass these days… apparently they no longer hold it at midnight.
Our parish’s “Midnight” Mass was at 9 pm this year. Not “Come at 9, sing for a couple of hours, and then we will have Mass until midnight!” No, no. In fact, they did not even mention that they were going to be doing all the extra carol singing before 9, so that if (just hypothetically, of course) you were to come racing in at the stroke of 9, you’d have missed it all. Luckily the Entrance Hymn was “Oh, Come All Ye Faithful,” my very favorite, although they chose not to sing any of it in Latin. Which is the very best part. Not that I’m bitter.
I completely understand the reasons why churches have made the change. It lets the choir members and the priests and the other liturgical ministers get a good night’s sleep after one hectic day and before another.
But there was always something so exciting about staying up for Midnight Mass.
- I’m grateful! for Grammelie Groo. After the scary year she’s had, we are glad just to have her, let alone to have her here for Christmas.
- I’m lighter! by two “non-stick” skillets. Actually, that’s not true; I got David two new skillets for Christmas to replace the horrible ones we have been using for years. I guess that by throwing them away I have really divested myself of the stress caused by the sticking of food and the ages those pans took to clean.