Update: Anne has immortalised this occasion with a photo and a video clip. See below
I was born and brought up a Roman Catholic, which probably explains in part why I lack the zeal of converts such as Evelyn Waugh who reacted angrily to any changes in Church ritual. I also have to say that I have become a less frequent visitor to mass in recent years and was therefore not altogether surprised to learn that Midnight Mass in Privas was this year scheduled at the, I was going to say the ungodly hour, of 6 o'clock in the evening.
When we arrived, the church was almost empty, but by half past six it was standing room, or rather sitting room, only. There was an air of expectancy in the church and pretty soon there was a movement of heads as the congregation turned round as one man to see the procession making its way down the central aisle. There were acolytes galore in cassocks, sundry priests of varying rank, and in the middle of them all a tall figure dressed in white, turning in a full circle and gesticulating wildly as he and his cohort approached the altar. Was this now considered standard behaviour? At least he was not actually levitating, so perhaps he was not a whirling dervish after all?
Once gathered around the altarpiece, the priests took up key positions and my eyes were drawn to one of their number by virtue of his greater charisma. He immediately put his audience at ease, exchanging what sounded like jokes with them, and entreating them warmly to enter into the spirit of Christmas. Being hard of hearing, I am afraid that I remained deaf to his entreaties, but it was all a far cry from the days when I was a regular, though conscripted churchgoer and when it was impressed upon me and my fellow conscripts that mass was no laughing matter.
Another development since my time: singing by the congregation was now accompanied by expansive movements of the arms and hands which I personally found it difficult to join in with - unlike my father-in-law (a professional in these matters), and even my wife and daughter. I suppose I was just too inhibited to take part.
I was born and brought up a Roman Catholic, which probably explains in part why I lack the zeal of converts such as Evelyn Waugh who reacted angrily to any changes in Church ritual. I also have to say that I have become a less frequent visitor to mass in recent years and was therefore not altogether surprised to learn that Midnight Mass in Privas was this year scheduled at the, I was going to say the ungodly hour, of 6 o'clock in the evening.
When we arrived, the church was almost empty, but by half past six it was standing room, or rather sitting room, only. There was an air of expectancy in the church and pretty soon there was a movement of heads as the congregation turned round as one man to see the procession making its way down the central aisle. There were acolytes galore in cassocks, sundry priests of varying rank, and in the middle of them all a tall figure dressed in white, turning in a full circle and gesticulating wildly as he and his cohort approached the altar. Was this now considered standard behaviour? At least he was not actually levitating, so perhaps he was not a whirling dervish after all?
Once gathered around the altarpiece, the priests took up key positions and my eyes were drawn to one of their number by virtue of his greater charisma. He immediately put his audience at ease, exchanging what sounded like jokes with them, and entreating them warmly to enter into the spirit of Christmas. Being hard of hearing, I am afraid that I remained deaf to his entreaties, but it was all a far cry from the days when I was a regular, though conscripted churchgoer and when it was impressed upon me and my fellow conscripts that mass was no laughing matter.
Another development since my time: singing by the congregation was now accompanied by expansive movements of the arms and hands which I personally found it difficult to join in with - unlike my father-in-law (a professional in these matters), and even my wife and daughter. I suppose I was just too inhibited to take part.
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| The altarbound whirling dervish |
Nice post! This made me laugh!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
ReplyDelete