In the old days
Mass was mystery
Silence incense smells
God come down from heaven
And the ringing of the bells
Congregation looking east
Heads bowed low in prayer
Adoring one white lifted host
Then coughing filled the air
Altar boys genuflecting
Bowing left and right
Carrying precarious missal stand
Gave onlookers a fright
Mumbling in Latin
Priest was centre stage
Turned to say ‘vobiscum’
We followed on the page
A half hour Sunday morning
Heaven came down to earth
A ring of Irishmen outside
Far from their place of birth
Outside were mills and factories
And coal mines by the score
The school next door a happy place
Couldn’t ask for more
Black coated priests black hatted too
Housekeeper to cook
Operation Hindsford
All done by the book
The change when come enormous
Join the modern world
Join the swinging sixties
Mini skirts and whirls
Priests now face the music
Compere for the show
Talking all in English
Silence has to go
Tabernacle tabled
Relegated to the side
Altar not a sacrifice
Rather mother’s pride
Guitars replace the organ
Singing ditties now
Earth is where it’s at now
Heaven can wait somehow
Change is always painful
We get set in our ways
And the new it isn’t perfect
Sometimes just a craze
But change was needed
That’s for sure
And change is coming still
The Church a living organism
Here to do God’s will
Last night I saw the old mass
All that bow and scrape
What is this they’re playing?
A form of great escape
Escape from modern living
Escape into the past
Hide from what needs doing
The old is best at last
The Lord gave us this supper
This holy sacrifice
We gather round as family
He died and paid the price
And I am with you always
The promise that he gave
And so I join his followers
Come O Lord and save
Brian Fahy
30 November 2021
Erris Poetry 