I went to old school, pre second Vatican council Latin masses. On our knees on other days in dusty, stone walled rooms, heads down, everyone quietly counting rosary beads. Had to wear veil over head to enter church because women’s bare heads weren’t fit for the eyes of god. Large cathedrals, Latin chanting bouncing echoes off walls. Hunky jesus nailed to cross behind gaudy altar, his loincloth sculpted so teasingly low.
No longer believe in god, but damn, the theatrical pomp was next class, probably influenced work I do as an artist, and why I like bdsm so much.