I write these few words in LAX, on this feast of Our Lady of Fatima, while awaiting to board my flight back home, after a whirlwind visit to Southern California. I last wrote of finding that cool, clear river of water in the desert, providing life whither it goes. Well, life abounds in the golden state, especially as one goes from the desert to the coast and the sea. There are people everywhere, and even pockets of Faith. A Mass I attended in one contemporary parish – and by ‘contemporary’ I mean replete with trombone, a piano played with flair, and a warbling soprano, was full to the brim. The Liturgy was almost the direct contrary of the TLM I earlier attended. At least in her current historical milieu, the Catholic Church is expansive enough to hold both of them, even if one might conclude that one is more conducive to a liminal and transcendent view of life and eternity.
I spent part of yesterday at the Norbertine Abbey of Saint Michael’s, walking up through the beautiful mountain scenery, where they do a ‘traditional’ liturgy – which is to say, Novus Ordo in a traditional mode, an Latin and English mix, well chanted, with a good number of young postulants and novices. The same goes for Thomas Aquinas College in Ojai, where I was given a warm welcome and a tour by one of the long-time ‘tutors’, as they call their professors.
As one involved for many years now the quasi-quixotic mission to found a truly and fully Catholic college here in Canada, I wondered about even the possibility of building such here in the socialist milieu of Canada. I felt like the Queen of Sheba visiting Solomon, but kept my heart still with confidence. I had the comfort of an early morning – 7 am – Low Mass, which they have on campus daily. The noon Mass is, like the Norbertines further south, a reverent and devout Novus Ordo, as the saying goes.
I drove down the coast as far south as Capistrano, bracing myself to dive into the violent surf. How could I not? I count myself a relatively strong swimmer, and knew enough to take a deep breath before the mountain of water crushed over one, but it felt like a near-death experience, and I came out bloodied and beaten, but exhilarated. I just wish I had a surfboard or a kayak. The Mission, alas, was closed on Monday (what’s with Mondays and the Church?) but the fine basilica was open for adoration. Deus providebit.
In my travels, I met many wonderful families and people. It’s almost disconcerting how friendly people are if one opens oneself up to them, with a simple greeting. As I think Mother Teresa once said, a smile can change the world.
But, really, it is simple charity, to love the other as oneself, and see oneself in the other. A little more of that in California, Canada, airports and churches, would go a long way to changing the world, and all for the better.
Must now board the flight back to wilds of the north, and hope to bring some California sunshine with me.
Our Lady of Fatima, ora pro nobis! +
