I went to Mass here on Tuesday morning. The church is primarily made of wood and has a red carpet, which I always enjoy because it reminds me of my old church growing up. There's only a very small crucifix hanging above the altar, but a huge disc with a picture of Jesus where the crucifix normally is makes up for it.
The Mass didn't have a homily, but the congregation spent a nice long time in prayerful silence after Communion, which always sets the right tone about the significance of what just occurred. A few people stayed after Mass to pray the liturgy of the hours, which might be the first time I've seen lay people doing that in a parish. Architectural details include an adorably tiny organ and a pretty strange-looking pair of confessionals. There is an old wooden balcony, part of which has been repurposed as a cry room.
For my saint of the day, I want to finally talk about St. Rocco (also known as St. Roch). The depictions of him I've seen have three things in common: he's a pilgrim, he has a dog, and he has a wound on his leg. Unfortunately, parts of his story (such as exactly when he lived and died) are kind of murky historically. He was born wealthy sometime around the 14th century, similar to St. Francis of Assisi, but gave all his possessions away after his parents died and wandered as a pilgrim to Italy. He found the plague there, and became famous for ministering to the sick. After getting sick himself he was expelled from town, where a dog belonging to a nobleman brought him food and licked his wounds (hence the dog and the wound on the leg). After returning to town he was accused of being a spy and thrown into prison for five years, where he refused to reveal who he was on account of his preexisting fame and aversion to worldly glory. People started venerating him as a saint very soon after his death, once they found out who he was and his full story was pieced together.
No comments:
Post a Comment