In 2017, when we were still attending the local Novus Ordo parish Mass (and about a year and a half before we discovered the Latin Mass), I wrote a blog post where I was wrestling with the ephemeral, lamenting planned obsolescence, and worrying about the faith of my young children in withstanding the cultural zeitgeist of secularism. There I wrote:
In many ways I fear the faith I am caring for, trying so carefully to preserve, maintaining its integrity and instilling the rituals and remembrances in our family life as my children are young, will be rejected when they come of age. “Sorry dad,” they will say, “we don’t want your stuff.” An old missal, a rosary polished from years of fingering—they’ll become like cherry armoires and cast-iron cookware: of no perceived use to them. …
