Returning to Church After Years: My Uncle’s Seventh-Day Mass Left Me Awestruck
Since the Catholic Church hasn’t changed much, I guess I’m the one who has.
My uncle died last August from lung cancer.
Between the diagnosis and his death, just a few weeks passed. It was quick. I had seen him a couple of months earlier and he looked fine. We had even chatted about the upcoming eVTOL industry, and he was really curious about it. So, when I received the news of his passing, I was like “What? How?”
He was a good man, and the least I could do was to honor his memory by attending his seventh-day mass.
Rest in peace, Uncle Luiz.
Confession: I never really liked going to mass
Having grown up in a catholic family, I used to go to church every Sunday as a kid.
My father loved to have my brother and me do the first and second readings. I was only eight, and I think the audience enjoyed seeing a child up there participating in the liturgy.
I enjoyed that part as well, but it was about the only thing I liked about the mass. Afterward, I would count the minutes until it was over, eager for the popcorn outside.
Fast forward to adulthood.
Honestly, apart from my uncle’s memorial mass, I can’t remember the last time I attended one — it was probably for a wedding.
Anyway, it was years ago, and I was certainly counting the minutes until I could indulge in the adult version of popcorn, like a cocktail party, once it was over. My mind wasn’t present. It was wandering, thinking about the upcoming caipirinhas or regretting something from the week before.
But this time, it was different.
I was ready
I don’t know exactly why but I was especially open that day. I was aware, I was present.
Maybe it was because I wanted to pay my last respects to my uncle. Perhaps it was because I changed over the last few years. Probably both.
About five years ago, I started reading like a freak. And, after reading hundreds of books and book summaries (Blinkist folks, you’re awesome), I felt the need to start writing too. Like, I had to. I couldn’t not write.
What did I do before all that reading and writing? I played video games.
Now, with over a hundred articles published on Medium, I know I’m still at the beginning, but I also know this was already enough to increase my awareness level — to make me more present.
The mass
The ceremony started at 6 pm sharp.
The priest, who looked like a younger version of Boris Johnson (no joke), greeted everyone with a sincere smile. He was happy to be there, celebrating that mass. I could see that.
The rituals followed. As I paid attention to the details, I noticed how the people working there were equally attentive. The Bible that had to be opened on the right page at the right time, the candle that had to be lit. They cared, and I could see that too.
And what to say about the music? The lyrics evoked a profound sense of gratitude for life, and the live performance by dozens of artists was simply beautiful. Good music elevates our spirits, they say. And, lemme tell ya, they’re right.
Then came the readings: the first, the second, and the gospel. The link between them was clear.
The gospel recounted a passage where Jesus was confronted by the Pharisees, who questioned why his disciples were eating without washing their hands first, which, according to the law, made them unclean.
The sermon was great, too. The priest did an excellent job connecting the lesson to today’s world, explaining that we shouldn’t blindly follow rules without first understanding why they exist. It was like a brief philosophy lesson, immediately applicable to everyday life.
But, what I found most astonishing came afterward.
We began sharing bread and wine in memory of a man who died over 2,000 years ago and, as his final request, asked us to do exactly that. When you realize that most of us will be completely forgotten in three generations, it’s hard not to be struck by the power of this ritual — the remembrance of the Last Supper, unfolding right before your eyes.
Now, you know what? Years ago, all of that would have gone unnoticed.
So, what changed? Well, since the church didn’t, my conclusion is that I did. And, although it was a sad day, I was glad I could genuinely honor my uncle’s memory by being fully present that night.
In my case, the road to a more present version of myself was paved with reading and writing. Yours might be paved with painting, helping mankind reach Mars, or practicing Tae-Kwon-Do.
Whatever it is, I think we should all strive to find what grounds us in the present. After all, the present is all we have, and constantly regretting the past or worrying about the future doesn’t seem like a winning strategy.
“Stop asking why and start saying wow.” — Behzad, a good friend of Naval Ravikant
Go ahead. Find your path to presence, then walk it. One day, you will find yourself saying wow frequently enough.
