ROAMIN'
CATHOLIC
By Charles A. Coulombe
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Contents © 1998
by Jim Holman.
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At Mass With the Dead
On All Souls Day, I attended the 5:30 p.m. Mass at La Placita, the old church of Our Lady Queen of the Angels on the Plaza, in downtown Los Angeles. Since its founding in 1784 by order of the King of Spain, the church has been rebuilt and renovated several times. It is divided into two sections: the main church, and the Perpetual Adoration Chapel, where Mass was said. In the chapel, despite the recent removal of the beautiful altar rails, the golden Spanish Baroque altar and reredos remains, with its old paintings of the Crowned Madonna and Child, the stigmata of St. Francis, St. Teresa of Avila, and several others.The congregation was overwhelmingly Hispanic. There was a sprinkling of Anglos, and one Asian woman in front of me followed the Mass in her Chinese Missal. Made up of all ages, most of the people genuflected on their arrival at their pews. Some did a double genuflection, reflecting the fact that the Blessed Sacrament is exposed in a monstrance in the chapel when Mass is not being offered.
Father walked into the sanctuary, clad in white vestments. Accompanying him as acolyte was an older gentleman in a suit. The Mass was In Spanish, and though my grasp of the language is poor, I could tell Father followed the wording of the Missal pretty exactly.
The priest did all the readings himself, and the congregation, without prompting or leading, joined in on the responsorial psalm and the alleluia. While the sermon was hard to follow, I did make out his description of what a saint is, and his citing of the Cristeros [Catholic counter-revolutionaries in Mexico] as uncanonized saints, as well as those who died for the campesinos. Moreover, he declared that in order to become saints, we must do everything with love.
At the offertory the congregation, with tenderness and devotion, spontaneously sang a beautiful Mexican hymn, while the acolyte bowed to the priest as he attended him. Similarly, the Santo, Santo, Santo was sung by the people in unison. Although the Second Eucharistic prayer was employed, the acolyte rang the bells at the elevations, and the congregation's attention was focused on the consecration in a way rarely seen today. The priest genuflected at both the consecration of the host and the chalice.
There were no eucharistic ministers; many, perhaps most of the congregation, received on the tongue.
At the final blessing, some knelt. As the priest retreated into the sacristy, The people spontaneously sang a hymn to the tune of "Daily, Daily Sing to Mary."
Outside, in the courtyard, many were praying and lighting candles at the open-air shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe. Crossing to the center of the Plaza, I found that the shops on Olvera Street and the bandstand in the middle of the Plaza were all festooned with artificial skeletons of every possible description, in honor of the Day of the Dead. The statues of the founder of the city, King Charles III, and his royal governor, Felipe de Neve, had received offerings of flowers at their feet, and the tablet with the names of Los Pobladores, the original 1781 settlers of Los Angeles, was also decorated with flowers.
Most impressive of all were the altars to the dead. Erected by various businesses, church groups, and civic organizations, each of these honored one or more of the dead of the sponsor. Some were strictly traditional, with the requisite crucifixes, religious images, skulls, photos of the deceased, and samples of the latter's favorite foods.
A procession formed, headed by the priest who had said the Mass, and his acolyte (now cassocked-and-surpliced) bearing a processional cross. Singing the traditional Alabado de Dia de Muertos, the procession wended its way around the Plaza; at intervals, the priest blessed the altars.