About fifty people
crowd into our wee chapel
in a shop basement
in Andersonstown
for Latin Mass
every Sunday.

Today,
as we all kneel
for the Sanctus
at the start of the Consecration,
I find myself wondering
whether each person’s
guardian angel
is kneeling also?

By my reckoning,
that would amount to
over fifty kneeling,
adoring angels!

Isn’t that simply amazing?

And doesn’t it go to show
what good company I’m in
when I attend Mass
in our wee chapel
in the basement
every Sunday?

© Claire Murray, 26th November 2023

A word often springs to mind
when I find myself thinking
about our Latin Mass
with the SSPX.
That word is – privileged.

I feel truly privileged
to participate in this Latin Mass
that has been passed down to us
through the centuries.

The same Mass that was celebrated
by the early Church.

The same Mass that was celebrated
in Celtic Ireland
by Saints Patrick, Columba
and Fiachra.

The same Mass that was celebrated
by our ancestors
in Penal times
in the hills of Derry and Inis Eoghain
and in the Sperrin mountains
surrounding Draperstown.

The same Mass celebrated
in the Long Tower chapel
in Derry
when Granny Roddy
was a wee girl
and the chapel had
a clay floor.

A Mass passed down to us
through many centuries,
unchanged,
uncompromised.

A Mass preserved for us
by the SSPX
who direct us
to mould our daily lives
so that they fit around our faith
instead of diluting our faith
to fit comfortably
into modern daily life.

Courageous teaching,
faith without compromise.
Indeed, I feel truly privileged.

© Claire Murray, 7th September 2023

One of the tales
that I used to hear
about Daddy and Uncle Hugh
growing up in Derry
was about the triple-decker Mass
which took place
every Christmas morning
at 6 am.

Daddy and Hugh
used to run up
to St Eugene’s Cathedral
where three Masses would be said,
one after the other,
before racing home
to open their Christmas stockings.

As a child, I was appalled –
imagine having to sit through
three Masses
before getting to open
your presents!

But in recent years
I began to view it differently.
A triple-decker Mass???
Wow!
My eyes would light-up
at the thought
and yet my heart would be saddened
by the thought
that triple-decker Masses
are consigned to tales
of long-ago.

But last week
I heard about a special Latin Mass
in Newry –
the Mass of All Souls
which is offered
for the poor souls in Purgatory
who are being cleansed
before entering Heaven.
And not only would one Mass be offered
for the Holy Souls –
but three Masses would be offered!
A triple-decker Mass,
just like Daddy and Hugh
used to attend!

So, with some excitement,
we went to the Mass.

Three times
the priest ascended
the altar steps.

Three times
we heard readings
from Sacred Scripture.

Three times
at the Consecration
bread and wine were transformed
into the body, blood,
soul and divinity
of Jesus.

And three times
at the end of Mass
we heard that beautiful
second Gospel reading –
“In the beginning
was the Word …”

We emerged
from our three Masses
steeped in reverence
and peace,
feeling truly blessed
and privileged
to have been able to attend
such a rare and special Mass.

It’s well over eighty years now
since Daddy and Uncle Hugh
ran to triple-decker Mass
on Christmas morning.
And I’ve just discovered
that triple-decker Masses
are not consigned
to the long-ago –
they still take place in Newry.

Isn’t that just wonderful???

© Claire Murray, 2nd November 2023

Our wee chapel
is in the basement
of a shop
and Latin Mass is celebrated here
every Sunday.

Today, at the Consecration,
our priest raises the host,
which is now Our Blessed Lord,
and as I bow my head
I find myself thinking,
“God is in the basement!”

I feel stunned.

Almighty God …
here with us …
in a basement …
in Belfast …

W O W ! ! !

I remember words
that I have heard Mother Angelica say
many times –
“Jesus told us ‘I will always be with you’,
and He is – in the Blessed Eucharist.”

God here with us …
every Sunday …
in the basement.

How amazing,
how wonderful
and how humble
is that?

(Aren’t we are so blessed??)

© Claire Murray, 7th October 2023

It’s our first time
at the SSPX church of St John
in Dún Laoghaire
to attend a Latin Mass
and before Mass begins
I take a few minutes
to survey my surroundings.

As I do so
the realisation slowly dawns
that our own wee SSPX chapel
in a shop basement
in Belfast
lacks something …
but I just can’t put my finger
on what exactly is missing.

Could it be the organ
with its intricately patterned,
golden pipes?
No, we have a Yamaha keyboard.
It can’t be that.

Could it be the smooth, shiny,
white, marble altar rail?
No, we have wooden prie-dieux
at which we kneel
to receive our Blessed Lord.
It can’t be that.

Could it be the beautiful, arch-shaped
Stations of the Cross
that adorn the walls?
No, we have A4-sized Stations
with a wee, golden cross
at each one.
It can’t be that.

Could it be the oak-beamed ceiling,
high-vaulted and impressive?
No, we have our own steel beams
on our ceiling
which is so low
that Fr Boyle has to duck
in case he bumps his head!
It can’t be that.

Could it be the steps
up to the altar?
We certainly don’t have those!
But, no, I can definitely imagine them
when our priests step forward
with great reverence
to our altar.
I’m pretty sure it’s not that.

What could it be that’s missing?

Then I spot
a large sanctuary lamp
suspended from the ceiling.

Aaahh, now I understand!

When we were wee,
Mammy taught us
that the chapel is God’s house,
where God lives
and that the red sanctuary lamp means
that God is home.

We don’t have a sanctuary lamp
because we don’t have a tabernacle.

With some sadness
I realise
that God doesn’t actually live
in our wee chapel
in Belfast.
He simply visits
every single Sunday
for an hour
during Mass.

And right there and then,
I begin to pray
that, one day,
we may have our own SSPX chapel
in Belfast,
with a tabernacle
for God to live in.

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

© Claire Murray, 5th August 2023

Derry has got through
to the All-Ireland quarter-final
and we’re all heading off
to Dublin for the day
to watch the match
against Cork.

First stop, early morning Mass
at Newry
where Latin Mass is offered up
in a wee chapel
that is filled to capacity
with people of all ages
who have a deep devotion
to the traditional Catholic faith.

As prayers are intoned
before Mass
I offer up my Rosary
and my Mass
for a special intention –
that our wee family may enjoy
a happy day out together
at the Derry-Cork match
in Dublin.

An inspiring sermon
from our priest,
a deep sense of peace
during the Mass
and, during the Consecration,
a deep sense
of being loved by God.

I place our day in Dublin
in the hands of God.

On our way to the match
I stumble
and as I sit by the roadside
nursing a badly-sprained ankle
I can’t help but think that,
for reasons best known to Himself,
this is all part of God’s plan.
(Sure how could it be anything else,
after all those prayers?)

I spiritually shrug my shoulders
as one of Mammy’s well-known sayings
springs to mind –
“Take it as the hand of God.”

Our son escorts me
as I limp back to the car
but, despite everything,
we really do have
a lovely family day out
in Dublin.

I spend the rest of the week
hopping about the house
on crutches,
feeling like Long-John Silver.
And all the time
I’m convinced
that I’m being held
in the palm of God’s hand.

I pray for a happy family day out
and I get a sprained ankle …
Isn’t life funny sometimes?
And isn’t God amazing??

Ps – in case you’re wondering,
Derry got through to the semi-final!

© Claire Murray, 2nd July 2023

It’s an early start for us today
and we groan
when the alarm clock rings
and we clamber out of bed.

First,
early morning Latin Mass
in Newry
in a pretty wee chapel
filled with faces
of people we don’t know
(yet!)
We enjoy the added bonus
of a wee girl making
her First Holy Communion –
such a special, blessed
and happy day!

After coffee in Newry,
a wander around the hills
at Grange
(sun hats, sun cream
and bottles of cool water
to quench our thirst).

A startled lizard
darts across the road
and seeks shelter
under my boot!
I lift my foot gently
and step lightly away.

Butterflies flutter by
and a lone buzzard cruises
in blue skies overhead.
A sleepy collie snoozes
in the shade
and lambs watch curiously
as we pass by.

A sense of God all around.

A picnic back at our car
followed by 99’s
by a glittering, blue sea.

Finally,
home again in Belfast
with just enough time for a snooze
before tea!

Thank you, Lord,
for a wonderful, summer’s day,
filled with faith, family
and sunshine.

How perfect is that!
(Definitely worth today’s early rise!)

© Claire Murray, 3rd June 2023

A bad coughing fit strikes
just before Communion
and I have to leave Mass
unexpectedly.

Outside our wee chapel
I stand among the cars,
looking up at Divis Mountain
as I wait for my coughing fit
to cease.

And as I stand there
something that Mother Angelica said
in one of her TV broadcasts
springs to mind.

Mother Angelica said,
that she knew the answer
to the question posed
in the spiritual hymn,
Were you there
when they crucified
my Lord?

She reckoned
that her personal answer was –
‘Yes!
Every morning
when I go to Mass.’”

This makes a lot of sense
to me.

And so,
standing outside
among the parked cars,
I silently give thanks to God
for keeping this cough at bay
long enough
for me to be able to stay at Mass
during the Consecration.
Long enough
for bread and wine
to be transformed
into the body and blood
of my Lord.

Okay,
so today I wasn’t blessed
with being able to receive
the precious body and blood
of Christ.
But I was blessed
with being able to stay at Mass
long enough to be able to say,
“I was there
when they crucified
my Lord.”

How wonderful is that?

© Claire Murray, 30th March 2023