Until my late father-in-law went into a care home and forgot about church, he’d only missed Mass twice in the entire course of his nine decades. After he was widowed at 85, he had a few more years before dementia took hold; years in which his regular Sunday attendance became even more important to him. This was the one time each week when he got out of his empty house. The ritual gave him dignity and purpose. There was spiritual solace and social, too: he’d go for coffee at his sister’s house nearby after Mass.