We departed our beach house yesterday morning and headed for home. This morning I woke up in a hotel room in Atlanta, GA.
This morning began early. That’s because it’s Sunday. This was both a travel day (meaning, for us, we would drive about 800 miles) and the Lord’s Day (meaning we would move Heaven and earth to find a traditional Latin mass).
In the suburb of Mableton, GA, we attended the 8AM low mass for Pentecost in, drumroll please…
Another St. Francis de Sales parish!
Have I mentioned he’s the patron of writers and I think he’s stalking this writer?
This parish is run by our old friends, the FSSP and has been ensconced in this current property since the early 2000’s. I actually attended a daily mass here a year ago. The parish church is not huge but not particularly tiny either. So it surprised me that there was a sign in the parking lot indicating mass would be in the gym. After some searching we found said gym. Down a hill. A very long bill.
I surmise that the interior of the church building might be undergoing some renovations as the gym has, in addition to a few hundred folding chairs, a semi-permanent sanctuary space made out of finer polished oak and complete with a proper rail on three sides.
The priest who said mass preached a phenomenal homily, as is now expected by me of all Fraternity priests.
What really caught my attention, though, was the fact that every single person in attendance was properly attired. I will be writing on proper mass attire soon. But especially the men…
Suits.
Ties.
Hair neatly parted.
Like men.
Grown men.
Strong masculine men who love their wives and children and aren’t trying to show off but simply to look their level best for Christ and His sacrifice.
As I said, more on that to come. Just remember, this was Atlanta and there was a certain Gone With the Wind vibe to be felt.
I loved it.
And I truly loved that the great Mother of God, Mary Most Holy absolutely came through for me. I mentioned I had asked her prior to this trip to make Latin mass available to me every day. That she did.
Never doubt the love of a mother for her children. She wants only good things for us. She is happy when we want to kneel beside her as her Son gives Himself for our sins. I think of the many times in my life when my own ingratitude towards her Son’s sacrifice must have pierced her Immaculate Heart.
Never again.
Mother, give me to worship thy Son every day in His sacrifice!
And she did. And she will.
And He is only too happy to oblige anything she asks of Him.
Turn to her. She loves you.
Virgin most powerful, pray for us!
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 