No Mass when the priest plays golf.
So when God's Mother has been dishonoured by having her feast moved "to observe the sanctity of Sunday", her soldiers don't just abandon the idea of leaping to her defence ...
... they yawn and have a day off, and go to play golf, and complain that it's hard playing golf on a damp December morning, at least once they get into the clubhouse, the nineteenth hole, to warm up and have lunch together.
But Our Lady, true to her mission, honoured or not, sets out on the journey to Bethlehem, and so unwoefully arrayed, that all creation should kneel as she passes by.
God, Help us all.