Tonight, like every Christmas Eve in recent memory, I will go to midnight mass at my church.And it will be beautiful.
The striking red flowers against the marble altar. The almost life-sized nativity scene. The sheer awe of being in a church that big. The thrill of singing my favorite music from the highest balcony. The feeling of familiarity with the crowds packing the pews. The magic of the middle of the night.
But tonight will be different, as my priest - the only priest I've ever thought of as "my priest" - will not be there.
And like the eventual change that is bound to come to all traditions, this one will be similar (and still good!) ... but not quite the same.
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