Sexagesima Social Report

Part of a weekly series designed to make Catholics who prefer the Extraordinary Form of the Mass look cool and fun and hip and with it and down with that.

Day broke over the Historical House and our spies had a shock when Mr. and Mrs. McAmbrose popped into the courtyard with society blogger Andrew Cusack. Although clearly a prisoner, the green-coated American looked at ease with his captivity. When taken to the bus stop, he revealed that he had only a 50 pence piece, but this attempt at escape was foiled by a handful of change, and Mrs. McAmbrose (Seraphic) bundled him onto the bus.

The bus soon filled up with large French rugby fans, who amazed Canadian Seraphic with the clarity of their diction, clarity which contrasted with the inanity of their conversation. In Canada, all sporting conversation in French is rendered unintelligible by the simple removal of half of the letters. But Seraphic was soon convinced, thanks to the Canadian Official Languages Act, that these French sportsmen were really on their way to rugby and not royalist commandos come to free her prisoner, despite their disguises, e.g. blue, white and red curly wigs, berets, a hat in the shape of a chicken, complete with head and wings.

The villainous McAmbroses led their prisoner along a river and up a hill to their accustomed church where their prisoner made a bid for freedom, but only as far away as a pew. The organist, strict leader of the Men's Schola, struck up a musical warning for the Asperges, and the Men's Schola burst into leadership. We are pleased to report that Seraphic paid attention and sang "lavabis me" and not "laudabis me" as she has done in the past.

There was a goodly helping of students, but not as large a percentage of women were wearing mantillas. Are mantillas falling from fashion? Pray that it not be so.

"I usually count," sighed Seraphic. "But I have a reader who is thinking about joining the Marines, and I prayed all through Mass about women and the Marines. It is a thorny topic. Do you know any British servicewomen? Yes, of course there are British servicewomen!"

This Sunday Saint Paul had so much to say that the compositor of the Weekly White Sheet had just put in the English translation. Saint Paul started off by listing off his Suffering Christian cred, which one must admit is very impressive. Seraphic did an afternoon in a holding cell for protesting for Life, but she was never beaten with rods, nor was she ever shipwrecked. The Historical House has a picture of St. Paul being lowered from a tower in a laundry basket, so she nudged her husband (Benedict Ambrose) at that part. Until his marriage, B.A. had thought it was a depiction of Mr. Toad disguised as a washerwoman. But the part that impressed the priest was the last bit, where St. Paul reports that he asked God to take away his thorn in the flesh and God said, No, sufficit tibi gratia mea, nam virtus in infirmitate perficitur.

The homily, which explored the lesson of St. Paul's infirmities, began with a reference to the Equality Bill, and there was a sensation in the Men's Schola. Then there was a reference to the Holy Father's ad limina address to the Bishops of England and Wales, and the priest unfolded a printout of it lovingly, lingering over the words "ensure that the Church's moral teaching is presented in its ENTIRETY and convincingly defended." Meanwhile, the Equality Bill was not defeated by our efforts, but by God, and this will not be the end of the matter, and we must remember our infirmities and St. Paul, etc.

"I love the homilies here," enthused Seraphic. "They are full of civics lessons and drama. I am so totally going to pass my 'Living in the UK' test."

The Men's Schola led all in the Credo, and Mass continued to unfold after the mandated homiletic blip. There were many people in dark coats, whom Seraphic forgot to count. There were clearly many new people, including a band of solemn-looking young men who had Discernment written all over them.

At the Cup of Tea of Peace, Seraphic and Benedict Ambrose chatted with Youth, and then Seraphic chatted with Pillars of the Parish. Society blogger Andrew Cusack, who clearly has Stockholm Syndrome, did not make any bid for freedom but ambled along like a sheep to the Gin and Tonic of Fortitude. The usual drawing-room abounded in Men's Schola and Youth, with their tweed jackets, their waistcoats and their silk ties. The female Youth had very nice boots, and Seraphic sat next to them, so that all the beautiful boots would be lined up together.

The Gin and Tonic of Fortitude ended long after the host had gone to lunch and indeed no one else left until one of the menfolk turned out the lights. This was a signal for the company to drift down the stairs and walk to the pub for the Pints of Beer of Excess. But then something curious happened. As the company talked of hearty, masculine things, the women dawdling behind made a sudden run for it, dashing across the road and scuttling along the river, squeaking about tea and tea shops. When Benedict Ambrose turned around, he perceived that his goodwife was gone, and with her the two White Mantillas. He was bemused.

Seraphic and the White Mantillas were later reported seen in a French-style cafe, drinking hot chocolate, eating croissants and talking in an animated fashion about Valentine's Day and how to cope with it. Later Seraphic was seen going home alone by bus.

But in time our spies reported that Benedict Ambrose and his prisoner had turned up at the Historical House with a bag of groceries. They were followed soon after by two shady yet strangely handsome characters on bicycles. The uppermost windows of the Historical House were set ablaze with light. We can only imagine what scenes of drinking and eating and liturgical discussion went on. Of their secret confabulations, we are privy to only one comment. Presumably after Seraphic excused herself from the male company, she rushed first to her beloved computer, for a male voice was heard to report, "Seraphic is sleep-blogging."

It was past one in the morning when the Historical House went dark.