When I’m at Mass, I often find myself at the edge of sleep and occasionally right over it into a twenty-second burst of shallow, eye-closing, neck-relaxing sleep. This can happen during the Gloria, or the Creed, or even the Sanctus, short though it is; sometimes, though much less often, it happens during the homily or the readings; and perhaps most often it happens during the Eucharistic prayer, where I can drowse in an incense-threaded, bell-punctuated haze. And even...
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