A Note From Your Pastor

 The Gift of worship
 
 I grew up in a home which stressed the importance of worship and for our family; worship meant attending Mass on Sunday morning—every Sunday. All eight of us Muses crammed into our 1969 Buick station wagon and drove two and one half miles to the Cathedral of Mary our Queen on North Charles Street.
 
 No, we kids didn’t “want” to attend church. What kid “wants” to go to church? But we went because our parents impressed upon us the importance of the worship of God. My mom used to tell us “you all can give one hour of your life to the Lord for the life that he has given you.”
 
 That explanation of why we should attend church was pretty hard to argue with but if any of us six kids did argue, Dad would settle the matter with two words--- “Get in,” meaning, get in the car or he would provide “surgical assistance” (my dad was a physician).
 

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