It’s not like there is a bad Mass really but some are just sweeter for some reason, like when you tasted ice wine for the first time. That’s the wine made from grapes after the frost resulting in naturally concentrated sweetness. Yea, you say, “That’s where I want to live.”
In the end it is alperfect, but we know that, love, Felipe.
Hola Amigo Felipe!
Loved Burgos and all the other magnificent altars of God I knelt before in France and Spain. I had my own little “Camino Litany” I would do in each one while kneeling with my pack still on, just as a reminder that I was a Pilgrim on the Journey. But in recalling my “sweetest Mass”, it was in the front yard of an Albergue with Fr. Ken from Louisiana and our little, tight, loving, close Camino family. Usually we could find whoever it was who held the keys to the local church and get it opened up for our daily evening masses. We struck out at this place so we just had Mass on the picnic table in the front yard. A Holy Meal and as sweet as wine can ever taste. Memories for a lifetime, my friend.
SF,
PFJ
PFJ ~ Yes, fond memories of so many wonderful Mass opportunities along the Way. From fancy smancy places like the cathedral at Burgos where I was cheeky enough to run up to the Bishop after the service and start a conversation to smaller more intimate venues. Maybe the high point of my personal Camino was crashing a small informal outdoor Mass of a dozen Italian pilgrims and their priest that I saw from the window of a restaurant. They were so welcoming and we communicated with no language. I took Communion with them and said thank you and ran back to eat my dinner. The whole Camino experience was so much richer being able to participate as a Catholic pilgrim. Yes, totally know what you are talking about.
OK, starting to pray for your upcoming operation. Looking good in 2016, love you man, Felipe.