Today is the memorial of Saint Rose of Viterbo† (1233-1251), annually remembered with the procession of La Macchina through the streets of her hometown: Saint-link, Wikipedia-link, & Machine-link.
Urbi et Orbi | Kith & Kin
On Sunday, 31 August, in greater Los Angeles, I attended my sixty-third Mass of the year, equally the mark for all of Anno Domini 2013 (Wayback Machine). Accompanying me to Saint James Catholic Church in Redondo Beach was my boon companion of many years, the Guy. At first, we could not discern if the church was named after the Apostle Saint James the Greater, the son of Zebedee, or the Apostle Saint James the Lesser, the son of Alphaeus, but then the Guy spied, of all things, a pelican afixed to the altar. I belatedly noticed five scallops flanking either side of the pelican & we knew that the church was named for the son of Zedebee, the scallop being his symbol (Wayback Machine).
My initial goal for 2014 was not to miss Mass on any Sunday, except when traveling. The road has always been the most opportune time to skip, being away from my routine & generally out of sorts. As the year progressed, it began to occur to me that I'm a member of the Catholic Church, the world's most catholic institution. There are Catholic churches everywhere! Why should travel be an obstacle to celebrating the Eucharist? A couple years hence, when I visited the Guy & the Gal in Saint Louis for New Year's, the Guy accompanied me to Mass on New Year's Day at the Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France (called the "Old Cathedral" because it used to be just that, the cathedral of the Archdiocese of Saint Louis), so I knew he'd be game even though he's not a regular churchgoer. I consulted with the Ace to locate the nearest Catholic church, consulted the Guy about Mass times at Saint James, & arose not all that early on Sunday morning to go to the ten o'clock Mass. (At night, my body was adjusted to Pacific time, so that midnight felt like midnight, not 3:00 A.M. In the morning, however, my body was still on Eastern time, so if I woke up at 6:00 A.M. I couldn't go back to sleep, since it felt like 9:00 A.M. Odd but convenient for not sleeping the day away, that.) August is normally the worst month of the year in regards to Mass attendance, but this August I attended nine Masses. The goal of attending Mass on every Sunday in 2014 now seems attainable, which is exactly why I'm now expecting the bottom to fall out on this whole endeavor.
Saint James is a lovely church & both the Guy & I were pleased to visit the attached bookstore. Looking at the statues, the Guy asked if I had one of Saint Michael the Archangel trampling Satan beneath his feet. I do not, for the moment. As we gazed upon the tiny reproduction of Michelangelo's Pietà, the Guy regaled me with the tale of Laszlo Toth, the madman who smashed the priceless original in 1972, & Bob Cassilly, the Saint Louis sculptor who thwarted him. The Guy is a font of interesting facts & stories. I was not a fan of the music during the Mass, but perhaps it was very much to the liking of the Saint James parishioners. The procession for communion took place from back to front, with those farthest from the altar coming up first; I'd never seen that before, but could get used to it in time.
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