At Great Cost

For most of us in the United States, deciding to follow Christ does not cost us our families or our livelihood.  I had the privilege tonight of watching someone make that decision at great cost.  He went through RCIA last year, but when it came time for the Easter Vigil he backed out at the last minute - that's when we found out that his family would disown him if he became a Christian (Catholic, in this case).  He has spent the last year going to RCIA again.  My heart rejoiced for him as he knelt in the baptismal font and was baptized.  The rejoicing continued as he was confirmed, and then received Communion for the first time.  God called him, he answered.  God bless him.

Palm Sunday

Today is Palm Sunday - the beginning of Holy Week.  My husband and I have a routine - on the way to Mass, I read the week's readings aloud to him.  Today's Gospel was extremely long. I wasn't sure that I would be able to finish reading it, even though we have an almost thirty minute drive to church, but decided to give it a try.  The Gospel begins with the Lord's Supper and goes all the way through the death of Christ, as told in St. Luke's Gospel.  As I finished reading the familiar story, my sweet husband wiped his eyes and sniffed a bit.  He told me that the thief on the cross who basically made his confession to Christ and received forgiveness right on the spot really hit him.  I wish I could remember his exact words, because it really touched me.  He has such a soft, good heart.

Two days ago, as I was leaving work, I mentioned to my paraprofessional and her son that we wouldn't have school next Friday because it was Good Friday.  Her son said it seemed more like Bad Friday to him, since Jesus died on that day.  It made me think.  I thought, and said to him, that it was a Good Friday for the world because of what the death of Christ bought for us.  As I drove home I thought about my answer.  The Saturday before Lent began, we went to a conference called the Heart of Worship at St. Laurence Catholic Church.  We heard an amazing speaker there, who referenced a mystic (I don't remember who), who had visions of Christ and asked Him how He was able to so go through the Passion.  His reply?  He thought about us.  We were on His mind and in His heart.  Our names, our lives.  Whether this is specifically true or how true the visions of the mystic were I don't know, but Scripture seems to align with this idea.  Hebrew 12:2 -"For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God."  We are His joy.  

Jesus of Nazareth

For the past several weeks I've been going through Pope Benedict XVI's book, Jesus of Nazareth.  It is a fascinating book, about which Pope Benedict says, "This book is...my personal search 'for the face of the Lord.'"  (At least, that's what it says on the back of the book.)  Anyway, I wanted to share a portion of it:

"What did Jesus actually bring, if not world peace, universal prosperity, and a better world?  What has he brought? 

The answer is simple: God.  He has brought God.  He has brought the God who formerly unveiled his countenance gradually, first to Abraham, then to Moses and the Prophets, and then in the Wisdom Literature - the God who revealed his face only in Israel, even though he was also honored among the pagans in various shadowy guises.  It is this God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the true God, whom he has brought to the nations of the earth.

He has brought God, and now we know his face, now we can call upon him.  Now we know the path that we human beings have to take in this world.  Jesus has brought God and with God the truth about our origin and destiny: faith, hope, and love.  It is only because of our hardness of heart that we think this is too little.  Yes indeed, God's power works quietly in this world, but it is the true and lasting power.  Again and again, God's cause seems to be in its death throes.  Yet over and over again it proves to be the only thing that truly endures and saves.  The earthly kingdoms that Satan was able to put before the Lord at that time have all passed away.  Their glory, their doxa, has proven to be a mere semblance.  But the glory of Christ, the humble, self-sacrificing glory of his love, has not passed away."

(page 44 in the paperback edition from Ignatius Press)

the Church

I always thought I understood what was meant by the church being the Body of Christ, but I don't think I ever really understood it until I became Catholic.  The Catholic Church takes this especially seriously and literally.  I've been thinking about this a lot as I reflect on the services of Holy Week so far.  On Holy Thursday I watched my church family wash each other's feet.  I saw a father's feet washed by his 5 year old daughter, then watched her eleven year old brother wash her feet.  I watched as my husband washed the feet of another RCIA team member and then I washed his feet.  I watched friends, families, and strangers wash each other's feet and watched as expressions on faces changed when they sat in the chair to have their feet washed.  I saw sweet kindness as, one after another, the Body of Christ knelt to wash the feet of another.  Later, I watched as my family went forward to be united in the Eucharist - receiving the very Body and Blood of Christ.  It is hard to really describe to someone who hasn't experienced it, but I know that I see Christ reflected on the faces of the people.  In fact, the Church encourages me to look for Him on every face - as Mother Teresa saw Him in "distressing disguise". 

Community

This week I participated in my second communal penance service. Reconciliation is the sacrament that I have probably struggled with the most since becoming Catholic; indeed, this sacrament has drawn many questions from the RCIA candidates I've had the privilege of intereacting with this year. I definitely don't have all the answers. At this point I participate in this sacrament as an act of obedience. Still, I really appreciate these communal penance services. To stand in line waiting to see a priest, and see people all around me dealing with their sins is pretty humbling and encouraging. It reminds me that I'm not alone in my sinfulness, or in wanting to stop sinning. To make a good confession requires me to have a true desire and intent to "go forth and sin no more". It is comforting, somehow, to know that the believers with whom I worship each Sunday are on this journey with me.

This sense of community has been an important part of my understanding of Christianity for a long time. As a Baptist I had the privilege to be a part of a home group for several years that truly shared life together - both sorrows and joys. I remember Lord's Supper services at this Baptist church that always touched me. Each person spent time praying and preparing themselves, then went to a deacon to receive the Lord's Supper. Watching people on those nights was very like the communal penance service.

Still, for some reason I find the communal aspect of Christianity to be especially enhanced as a Catholic. I didn't read about that anywhere, but I definitely experience it. Every week we receive the Body and Blood of Christ together and it unites us. The concept of the church as the Body of Christ has taken on new meaning to me that I'm still struggling to articulate - maybe I'll find the words soon.

The Eucharist

I went to daily Mass yesterday in Charlotte where I am attending a conference. It's so nice to be able to go to daily Mass every now and then, and nice to to go in another city.

I don't know why so many churches don't celebrate the Lord's Supper, communion, whatever you call it, more often. Is it too much trouble? Too expensive? Not considered important? I don't know. I used to attend a PCA Presbyterian Church for awhile that had communion every week. I think a part of me started being Catholic then. It was the first church I went to that saw communion as more than symbolic. They didn't teach trans-substantiation or consubstantiation, but that communion was more than just a symbol. It was seen as a means of grace that actually did something. In other words, without saying it in so many words, communion was seen as efficacious. Hmmm. I think of Father Neuhaus's contention that all truth gravitates toward the Catholic Church (see Catholic Matters for more).

I love to be in Mass each week and watch people coming forward to receive the Eucharist. On one side of me they come down waiting to receive the Body and the Blood of Christ, on the other side they have already received Him in the Holy Eucharist. It is beautiful to see. I don't know what is going on in each heart, yet I know that Jesus is there - His Body broken for us. I'll never forget the teacher from FTCM last year who said that at the Mass we receive the Body of Christ, broken for us; then we, as the Body of Christ, are to be broken for the world.

A Crucifix

I marvel at how Mass is the same week after week, yet God is able to meet me in new ways when I least expect it. This morning my husband wasn't with me because he wasn't feeling well and I was missing him by my side as I knelt to prepare myself before Mass began. Typically I close my eyes and do a very Protestant confession of my sins in preparation for receiving the Lord in the Eucharist. I close my eyes, bow my head, and pray. This morning I looked up at the San Damiano Crucifix in our church. I looked into the eyes of the crucified Christ as I confessed to Him. It changed my weekly ritual for me; suddenly my prayer felt like a conversation with a friend.

When I first started attending Mass I really did not like that crucifix. I didn't really like crucifixes at all because I'd rather "forget" how much was suffered for me and focus on the empty cross and the Resurrection. As a Catholic I no longer have the luxury of "forgetting" because I face a crucifix each time I attend Mass. Recently I've been hearing and reading that the reason the crucifix is the primary symbol of our faith is that it is in the suffering of Christ on the Cross that we see the depths of God's love for us. Certainly Catholics celebrate the Resurrection and understand its importance to our faith just as Christians everywhere do, yet I appreciate the constant reminder of God's love that I see before me week after week. It humbles me and challenges me, forcing me to face my own sinfulness alongside the depths of God's love for me. It reminds me better than an empty cross that I need to love people the way God loves me - sacrificially.