My first reaction was feeling completely at a loss for what to do. Stand, kneel, stand, sit, kneel, sit, stand, kneel… The order was completely different from the OF, and that completely threw me off – I didn’t have a missal to follow, and there were no booklets remaining when I walked in (I saw a pile of them after the mass as people returned them).
I also remember wondering if I’d accidentally walked into an SSPX chapel (even though I’d been to the OF of the mass at the church the evening before) – two weeks before Ash Wednesday, the priest was already wearing purple, and the readings were different from the ones the night before. I’m glad I stayed until the homily when father announced that the wearing of purple before Lent officially began was an old tradition. And then I found out that the EF has a different reading cycle. OK, so it was a Rome-approved mass.
And I remember experiencing how beautiful and reverent the mass was, and thinking to myself, “Why did they change all this when the language was changed to the vernacular?” At 43, I don’t remember the Latin mass, and I don’t know the history of the change to the OF. But attending the EF (and I’ve only been once) gave me something to think about – why was the
whole form of the mass changed? Why not just translate the language and be done with it?
Honestly, I suddenly understood something my late father once told me in the 1980s – that he stopped going to mass when they changed it. I don’t defend his decision (and he did make a good confession and return to the sacraments before his death), but I understand his frustration now.
The small number of people at the EF mass surprised me as well. But it was nice to feel at home receiving Holy Communion on my knees
As I am paid to play the piano at an OF mass, I probably won’t get back to the EF for awhile. But it is truly lovely, reverent, and I wish we could have the EF in English as our “new translation.”
Gertie