Growing up, my favourite part of Christmas was always Midnight Mass. This was back when midnight masses were actually at midnight.

I would be a little bit giddy from being up so late.

I would be a little bit squished because the church was so full.

I would watch as those coming in from the local pub would make their way to the only remaining seats at the front of the church.

I would watch them as they fell asleep.

I would listen to and sing along with my father as he sang those beautiful Christmas hymns, sometimes in Latin, that most ancient of languages.

I loved the stained glass windows reaching high up for the ceiling. The acoustics in the archs reflecting the angel voices below

I remember the humble nativity scene where I would stand in wonder as I looked down at the face of little baby Jesus asleep in a manger of hay.

I loved looking up as large, white, flakes of Christmas snow fell from the wintery sky as we exited the church.

For this short period of time, we were all the same.

……………………………………………………………………..

Tonight the mass was at 9:30pm and I am wide awake.

The church is not as full. There are a few but not many, empty pews

I had forgotten the beauty of this old historical building. The qualities of the wood, the curvature of the arches, and choir rail. The ornate statues that graced not just the altar area but also the sides and back of the church.

I had forgotten the smells of the incense and the sound of the bells and the folded hands of the altar boys.

The voices of the choir that rang through the choir were divine. My father’s voice was missing, but he was probably listening.

The faith of the people was strong and obvious.

A nativity scene graced the back of the church, beckoning the children, both young and old, to stop and wonder at the face of the little baby Jesus.

I’m very happy that we decided to stop by tonight.

…………………………………………………………………

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”

J