Immaculate Mary, your praises we sing--but only because Father told us we had to

Today was... interesting. In honour of the feast, I wore all white (except my shoes, since I do not own white shoes. Therefore, my shoes were black...)--get it? Immaculate Conception... hahaha. I've been laughing at my own joke all day, since most people only half-get it, if they get it at all.

Mass was, as usual, in the auditorium. I got to sit with the lights and sound at the control panel, since the seat was open and why not? I like sitting there. It's the second-best seat in the house (the first being the Eye In the Sky/the Godbox/the Stage Manager's Booth, which has an absolutely spectacular view). The priest was an old-ish, tall, skeletally skinny man who talked with his hands in such large gestures that I had a hard time stifling my giggles when he used air quotes.

To give Father all due credit, as a student body, Aquinas really does fail at singing anything except the Alma Mater. Nobody puts in the effort. I would, but I have an absolutely terrible voice... AND I sing soprano, so it annoys anyone nearby. Anyway, he did make us sing. Which I suppose I was okay with. And I was very pleased to hear him, at the beginning of his homily, clarify that the feast day today is to celebrate the Immaculate Conception of MARY--not the Virgin Birth. But from there, it began to weird me out.

For starters, any priest who has the misfortune of celebrating Mass with us has to do it in the round because the choir is behind the altar, on the stage. (For theatre-savvy readers, the altar is downstage and the choir is upstage. For non-theatre-savvy readers, this simply means that the altar is closer to the audience, aka the house. Hence my use of the term "best seat in the house.") During the Eucharistic prayer, Father presented the bread and wine (pre-transubstantiation) to the ENTIRE congregation--this included turning around and showing it to the people in the choir. The niggling in my brain said, snarkily, "You know, if this were Latin style, he wouldn't need to do that..." but then I hushed it so I could focus.

Then, at the end of the Liturgy of the Eucharist (but before the closing blessing!) some of the Peer Ministers came up and reflected on... I don't even know what. I couldn't really follow it, and I've never understood that idea. Then they presented the priest with a senior shirt, as is tradition (though I really wish we could do it after "This Mass is ended, let us go in peace to love and serve our Lord and one another"). Then everyone started getting ready for the Alma Mater, even though the recessional hymn hadn't even been begun yet. But Father said to stay that way even for "Hail, Holy Queen." So they did. (I'm not a very touchy-feely person, most of the time. Therefore, standing in a line with peoples' arms over my shoulders and my arms on theirs and we're all swaying? Not the best for me.) The Alma Mater was resounding, as usual.

Oh, and I mustn't forget that instead of saying, "Peace be with you," Father told us all to ask, "What do you think God is calling YOU to do?" He also asked that the students join hands across the aisles for the Lord's Prayer. Why are people not told that it is illicit?

Today could have been better, though it could have just as easily been much, much worse. I have yet to find the opportunity to bring up my quest for a good chalice with the campus minister. I plan to do so tomorrow, if possible... but by now, we all know that I will have undoubtedly forgotten by tomorrow afternoon. Alas. I will do my best to remember, however. I promise.