I’ve been going to Christmas mass every year for my lifetime. I’ve waited in the cold to get in. I’ve smooshed up to others to fit into a pew. I’ve gone early and waited an hour beforehand. What a waste of time! Didn’t matter whether I was in Alameda or San Francisco. There have always been crowds of Catholics needing to get their Jesus fix.
This year, we walked down the hill to Notre Dame des Victoires in the city. I was thoroughly annoyed at Dean because we were running a late. “We’re not going to get a seat!” I screamed as I puttered along in front of him. We showed up at 9:01am on Saturday Christmas morning and the priest practically escorted us to a vacant pew. The place wasn’t even a quarter full. So surprising, also because the pastor is pretty bad ass with his homilies. I call the rectory to ask which masses he’ll be presiding at.
Never have I seen a place so under-populated on Christmas. Unbelievable. Plus they had a reception afterwards. Cheese, crackers, cookies, sliced meat, juice, and coffee. Yeah!
Now you know. A place where you don’t have to fight the mad crowds which I have very little patience for.
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