Milquetoast Mass While Our House Is On Fire

By REY FLORES

This past Sunday due to family scheduling conflicts, I attended Sunday Mass at a nearby parish instead of our family’s parish, which is about 75 miles away from our home.

Given that I have attended the Traditional Latin Mass exclusively for the past 12 years, it’s always an adventure for me when I attend a Novus Ordo Mass at a parish that is completely new to me.

I always find it interesting to see how crowded the parking lots and pews are, but it’s almost as if people are there because they have to be there, not because they want to be there.

Almost immediately upon entering the church a couple of minutes late, I hear the sounds of Protestant-like hymns being sung by a shrill-voiced woman who apparently thinks this is a platform for her to perform, rather than to give greater glory to our Lord through song.

I attended with my five-year-old son Pio, who was one of only two children in the entire building under 14 years of age. I didn’t notice this at first, but my son did. He said, “Papa, why are there no little kids here?” I told him that perhaps these families didn’t have any little kids.

Nothing against older and elderly people, but this was the personification of a dying parish. Almost everyone in attendance was 60 or older. I imagine there will be no one to fill the pews as the older people continue to pass on.

During the homily, Father proceeded to ramble on and on about how we were like the seed of a cedar tree and that we needed faith and prayer if we wanted that seed to grow into a tree that branched out and grew and this and that and the other…ad nauseam.

It’s as if Father hadn’t been reading the headlines for the past decade. Everything was hunky-dory and nothing was wrong with the world.

Here we have rampant abortion, widespread use of contraception within our own ranks, homosexual propaganda being hurled at us from every direction and Father wants to waste the few precious moments he has all week with his parishioners by giving us a horticultural lesson?

It is irresponsible and wrong for priests in every Catholic parish in America to not address the real issues of the day. It is downright negligent to not talk about the attacks against Catholics and Christianity all across the world.

Our own president does everything he can to undermine Christianity in our country, and you’re telling me that the entire body of the clergy in the United States is incapable of utilizing the weekly Sunday homily to prepare us spiritually for the anti-Christian agendas of many in our government?

As if it weren’t enough yet, the man who went up to read out his litany of generic intentions presented the craziest intention I have ever heard: “Lord, please guide our president and elected officials to do what best for…the government.”

Without missing a beat or even questioning that most ludicrous of petitions, the congregation droned on mindlessly in unison with their “Lord, hear our prayer” response.

Yes, the pews were filled pretty much to capacity, but like I said earlier, the people were there physically, but it was almost as if they were functioning on auto-mode; standing, sitting, barely kneeling, and exchanging handshakes as ritual, but not as celebration.

Same thing with the collection plate: Everybody gave, but for what? To continue this half-hearted attempt at liturgy?

It’s as if our house was on fire and our spiritual fathers were telling us about how to grow flowers on the window sill.

Pope Francis himself has raised a few eyebrows and quite a few concerns with his interest in climate change.

Yes, our house is on fire and our priests and bishops had better wake up.

I am grateful for the strong traditional orders like the FSSP and the Institute of Christ the King, because if it weren’t for them, the local Church might well be controlled by modernists, the pant-suited nuns behind Obamacare, and the militant secularists determined to destroy our Church.

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(Rey Flores is a Catholic writer and speaker. Contact Rey at reyfloresusa@gmail.com.)

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