Have you ever had one of those Sunday liturgy experiences during which your whole being is just grateful for your parish, for your pastor, for your music director, for your cantors, for the people sitting around you, for the beauty of the space?
Yep, happened to me yesterday at Old Saint Patrick's here in Chicago. Nothing particularly earth-shattering about any of the individual elements, although I found the homily particularly stirring. I guess I walked in yesterday with an already grateful heart and so much of what I heard and sang just resonated within me. "O, star of wonder, star of night; star with royal beauty bright!"
I have been accused of "irreverence for the Mass" after some of my talks, when I bring in the idea that liturgical participation is like dancing the Hokey Pokey. You've gotta "put you whole self in!" I did that yesterday and God seemed to have taken me, shaped me, rolled me around, and spit me back out into a waiting world. Epiphanies abounded.
Gotta sing. Gotta pray.