The Chrism Mass

Well, you ought to go to one of these, at least once in your life. Yes, it's long, but will reawaken your own links to the Ancient Church, the deep, ever-revealing symbolism of the Holy Oils, and the often-lost sense of Church, One Body.

We got to Cathedral early, discovered folks had scared up TWO dalmatics for Dick. A newly ordained priest gave him his own: heavy gold brocade with red accents. (Long-term loan) and the priest who is master of ceremonies loaned him his: gold, with an embroidered panel of birds, vines, flowers, that matched the priest's and also the cloth on the table to hold the oils.

During this mass priests renew their vows. Our five, young newly-ordained deacons assisted on the altar, and, with Dick's help carried up the three heavy, silver tureens that held the three oils for blessing.

I had a front row seat in a pew with elderly nuns (!) and, as usual, the cathedral was packed out with representatives from every parish, and the ubiquitious dog, sound asleep at the foot of the altar. No one batted an eye. He managed to rouse himself and look alert during Communion.

For me, the most memorable moment was after the first two tureens were carried up to be blessed: Oil of the Sick, and Oil of Catechumens. As the third, most important was carried forward between two deacons, there was a clear sense of a Person, a Worthy Dignitary, being escorted to His rightful place of Honor in the church. This is the Chrism Oil, destined to anoint those being baptized.

Afterwards: catered dinner for clergy, two nuns, and one deacon's wife. Dinner was not memorable.