A Longing from Within

Recently I was discussing the Extraordinary Form of the Mass with a friend. And it is interesting that even though I have never been to a Traditional Latin Mass, I have been drawn to more traditional rites within the Catholic Church. This longing is not really from any kind of external influence, but more from a longing that God has placed within my heart. It is not that I am unhappy with the Mass that I attend now, far from it, but that I desire to search deeper into the mystery of the Holy Eucharist and His Great Love for us in the Blessed Sacrament. The Holy Spirit works in amazing ways, and even though I know very little about the Extraordinary Form of the Mass, this desire has caused me to look deeper into our Catholic faith.

I was not raised as a Catholic or really with any type of faith upbringing. I am not sure if this is why God has placed this on my heart. I have really good friends on either side, some who prefer Mass as it is celebrated today, versus populum, toward the people, and in English and some who prefer the Extraordinary Form of the Mass. Either form is heaven on earth, and God's miracle, not ours. He comes to us intimately during Holy Mass, and reverence for Him in the Eucharist intensifies my receptivity to His Loving Embrace.

It is with this longing for tradition that I read a post entitled "Why am I So 'Into' the Extraordinary Form of the Mass?" by Fr. Christopher Smith at The Chant Cafe. (H/T Carlos Antonio Palad at Rorate Coeli). Fr. Smith was raised as a Baptist and had a longing for liturgy which brought him to a vocation as a priest. Whichever Mass you attend, his story is amazing and brought tears to my eyes, particularly his description of his pilgrimage to Chartres (emphasis mine):

The day after I graduated, I went on the famous pilgrimage to Chartres. On the middle day of the pilgrimage, we stopped in the middle of the forest for Solemn High Mass of Pentecost. The sumptuous procession of clergy, the active participation of thousands of young people singing with one voice the Latin
chants of all ages, it was all a great respite from our grueling walk. And then, after the Offertory, it started to rain. I expected the stampede to find cover, the complaining, a total abandonment of what we were seeing. Nobody moved from the place, except the Scouts, who unfurled linen cloths in neat rows and held them like soldiers holding the flag over a casket.

Priests came with the Blessed Sacrament accompanied by scouts with gold and white umbrellas for the color of the Pope and the Sacred Host. And, as the rain drove down hard upon our faces and drowned out the singing, everyone knelt in the mud, clutching the linen cloths, and received their LORD and God on the tongue with great devotion and love.

This was the faith that I had been looking for my whole life. This was that beauty, ever ancient and ever new, which ravished my heart and gave me strength. There in the mud in the middle of a forest in France far from home, I knew that my vocation was to be a priest, to bring the LORD of faith and beauty to others like those priests who came to the adoring throngs covered in dirt and grime in body, but in grace and charity in soul. And that experience was during the extraordinary form of the Mass. Could I have had a similar or even the same experience in another form of the Mass, or even at some other time? Of course. But God chose that time to reveal Himself and His plan to me in a special way, and for that reason I will always be linked to the liturgy and the people who have sacrificed to encourage its celebration.

Read his entire post here. Fr. Smith celebrates both forms of the Roman Catholic Mass and I am so happy that he shared his journey with us. It is really beautiful.