Date begins

Pro'lly a mistake to try to walk for nearly an hour in this humidity to make 7 AM mass at the Shrine of Bl.FX Seelos (yes, he's German, but seemly). They asked me if I swam, but I know they were joking because I didn't smell as bad as the River (not quite as bad). Weekday early morning mass isn't at the Shrine, though, it's around the corner and six blocks up ________ St. in the little wooden chapel associated with the shrine. The small rectangular white wooden building seems like a small country Protestant church, complete with an organ lofts so tiny there wouldn't be room for much more than Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn to sit with their legs dangling over between the rails. The Mass was Catholic but with a Protestant Evangelical sort of atmosphere. The way people came up with their own Prayers of the Faithful reminded me of giving "Testimony"--I did too, though,;I asked for prayers for the repose of ms' soul. Fr X (I know his name, but I'll leave him anonymous here) toured the whole church--maybe thirty people--at, what's it called, hand shaking time? People were good though and greeted with kind words and condolences afterward. And I can't say there were any liturgical abuses, although I prefer my sacred vessels purified on site rather than taken off stage right by the server and returning after a minute or two of loud pressure washing sounds. I joke, but when I think of all the churches around the world in which the Blood of Our Lord is not worshiped down to the smallest trace it disheartens me. In aggregate, the tiny drops spilt must be an ocean for each tiny drop spilt on Calvary.