Yesterday evening, at the Vigil Mass, I sat alone in the middle of the next to last pew; my good wife was away taking care of her sister who was recovering from surgery. I wanted to avoid blocking anyone from getting in, and I wanted not to interfere with the normal sitting routine since I usually go to the Sunday morning Mass: you know – new people come in early to a heavily attended Mass, sit in your usual spot, and then you sit in someone else’s usual spot, and then they have to sit in someone else’s usual spot, and on and on the disruption goes. Well, I was not going to do that. Not today.
As I sat there by myself, I opened a dialogue with God (or He opened one with me). All of a sudden, I found it easy to be encouraged by the truth that everything was good and beautiful and a reflection of the immense kindness, forbearance, and love of our great Creator.
The beauty of people, art, candleabra and candle flames, a smile, glimmering sunlight, the peace of quiet, an enthusiastic and faithful and dutiful priest, meditation and contemplation, the Real Christ intentionally present out of total love for us. Everything was gift at that moment – a sheer contradiction to all that is evil in our day. And then I considered the beauty of nature outside the parish church – how beautiful and how directly docile it is for us compared to how bad it could be.
It was all a gift to allow me to praise God from the heart – to love Him with all of my heart, soul and mind.
And, coincidentally, that’s what the Gospel readings were about: “
“You shall love the Lord, your God,
with all your heart,
with all your soul,
and with all your mind.
This is the greatest and the first commandment.”
I give you thanks, dear Lord, for encouraging me and moving me to praise and love. May I always love you fully. Amen.
Theo-Logis 