I wonder if it lifts any years from purgatory when the wobbly contralto soloist, chirping into the heavily amplified microphone, manages to sing, with remarkable consistency, an eighth-tone flat. I wonder if more years are lifted when the organist's knowledge of harmony seems to end with tonic, dominant and sub-dominant, no matter what's found in the hymns through which he navigates so precariously; hymns which in themselves are quite possibly even more excruciating than the interpreters?
St. Cecelia pray for us and your Holy Church.
Update: Justyn Martyr writes:
Sounds like you checked out your local parish today.
What was the line the Justice of the Peace gave to an eloping Eddie Bracken in "Miracle at Morgan's Creek": "Don't be nervous -- getting married is the easiest thing in the world. The hard part comes later."
Conversion is much the same -- hang in there.
Actually, JM, I've attended mass there several times, it's just I'm appalled every time I do. Thanks for the encouraging words and allow me to allay your concern: I love Holy Mother Church with all my heart. I know first hand of what glories she is capable and irrespective of that, no matter how dreadful the liturgy, the Real Presence isn't altered in the slightest.
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