At the High Mass
The senses start to quicken as the bell
Heralds the linen-silken train of men
Into the giant jewel-box of the church.
The expectation of what’s old and known
From age-long repetition weights the gloom:
The quickening thrill of God-made-man, made Bread.
This solemn celebration of the rite
Is elemental nature consummate:
The very stuff of earth is made to shout
And yield its fundamental self to God;
Flame, water, incense, metal, stone, and dust–
Arrayed in splendour—crying out to Him.
The house is filled with smoke, the Lamb is slain–
All may be clear and clean, and live again.
March 22, 2008 at 11:38 am
I really like it!
Just never give it to Haas/Haugen for them to make a hymn out of! ;-p
March 22, 2008 at 1:05 pm
Fear not — “Haugen Daas” shall never have it!
March 22, 2008 at 1:34 pm
For what it’s worth, this particular piece of doggerel was inspired by my liturgical experiences of the “jewel-box” church pictured in the Good Friday post below it. So now you know.
March 22, 2008 at 2:18 pm
Ahhh.
Merci beaucoup.
March 24, 2008 at 1:35 am
Did you write that your ain self? I like it!
March 24, 2008 at 4:35 pm
As always, Seraphic, you are too kind – visit often, now! I wrote it a few years back on a slack Sunday afternoon after having been unable to make Mass. “Creative guilt” you might say.
[I nearly didn't post it at all in case it was misinterpeted as "impanationist". Hence the "B" for bread - I want to make it quite clear that I do know Christ does not "become bread" but rather that the bread becomes His Body. Perhaps "made 'Bread'" would have been clearer... Aaaanyway...]