Just some quick catch-up, post-final project, from last weekend: We had 54 eighth graders become fully-confirmed members of the church at Noon Mass. Church was full--Christmas/Easter full--of families with young children. Many, MANY Hispanic families. I was amused to see a dad and mom seated a couple rows in front of Sarah and I with four young boys and a daughter--who I assume had a child being confirmed. The girl was an infant, and the boys were, well, being boys--gloriously wiggly, squirmy, full of mischief. I LOVED it.
Not only that, but--
There was an opening prayer in Spanish.
There was a hymn printed in the program (and sung!) in Spanish.
They're having Masses (for holy days of obligation) in Spanish.
I am grateful to have lived so long as to see this happen--and I am equally ashamed of the members of this parish that it took this long. I fought with the clergy on this since we moved here. The very well-ensconced didn't see the need (some still don't) There's a lot of stubbornness, hardness of heart, on this--but it could be that that's starting to change.
I have to believe God was pleased by what he saw at St. Francis of Assisi parish this weekend.
Indeed--how CAN I keep from singing?
*--Robert Lowry and Pauline T. (surname not known), 8/7/1868.