Our
makeshift prison chapel does not have an altar. Well, that's not a
fair assessment; our altar consists of a rickety folding table and a
borrowed altar cloth. There are no seasonal altar frontals. Ah, but
we are blessed to possess a Lectionary. This may sound dismal, but
it's not. See, with this richness we have bilingual missals for the
faithful and two battery operated candles (which do not work) adorn
our meager altar. A tattered and battered crucifix, too. Oh, and of
more significance, we are blessed with extraordinary ministers who
being us Jesus in consecrated form.
There I sit, front and center of the altar. As congregants sporadically arrive, I am drawn to a little plastic container resting on the altar. It is a clear food dish with a translucent blue lid which sports a lapel pin cross affixed to the top. For all intent and purpose this hokey pix is our paten. For those of you who do not know, the content consists of the consecrated host - such is brought from a Mass at some downtown parish so we may participate in Holy Communion with the whole Church. This delivery is carried out by Eucharistic lay ministers.
On the edge of my seat staring at Jesus in that little plastic container, just a mere few feet away, I feel moved to approach. As I do, collecting my thoughts, I drop both knees to the floor in order to kneel. Reverently, I dispense a couple of drops of Holy Water from a plastic squirt bottle into my palm, bow, recall my venial sins, and plead that such be washed away as I perform the Sign of the Cross.
Silently returning to my seat, I cannot help but ponder how my actions with the Holy Water were reminiscent of my baptism...also, when Jesus was baptized by Saint John. Also, how the Sign of the Cross also reconfirmed my covenant with Jesus.
Composing myself, I think of that Christ has done for me. Complete selflessness. I am conversely confronted with all that I have done to him - every time there is a failure to respond to God's will and instead chase base desires, I inflict pain upon Jesus.
There I sit, admiring Jesus. How awesome. We have a God who created the universe. Spoke living creatures into existence. Out of all that lives, God selected us to be his friends, to carry out his divine plan. He gifted us with free choice (albeit, sometimes such feels like an impossible curse). Jesus performed miracles like walking on water, curing the blind, bringing the dead back to life. Able to make everything out of nothing, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, he elects to make himself available under the appearance of bread and wine, body and blood - he can call anything into being, but chooses to reveal himself in the most basic and accessible food. He makes the universe, but presents himself as a piece of bread! Humility.
These ponderings beg to question: When we are in the presence of our Lord, well, do we die to self and offer every part of our being to him? Or, do we instead concern ourselves with secular nonsense and make small talk with the person next to us? Do we prepare ourselves, singularly and corporately, to receive Jesus into our bodies (and live as though we have)? Or, are we more interested in bumping elbows with the priest, making sure he sees us? Conversely, why not sit with Christ and be open to his presence and work!
Mariana tha....
There I sit, front and center of the altar. As congregants sporadically arrive, I am drawn to a little plastic container resting on the altar. It is a clear food dish with a translucent blue lid which sports a lapel pin cross affixed to the top. For all intent and purpose this hokey pix is our paten. For those of you who do not know, the content consists of the consecrated host - such is brought from a Mass at some downtown parish so we may participate in Holy Communion with the whole Church. This delivery is carried out by Eucharistic lay ministers.
On the edge of my seat staring at Jesus in that little plastic container, just a mere few feet away, I feel moved to approach. As I do, collecting my thoughts, I drop both knees to the floor in order to kneel. Reverently, I dispense a couple of drops of Holy Water from a plastic squirt bottle into my palm, bow, recall my venial sins, and plead that such be washed away as I perform the Sign of the Cross.
Silently returning to my seat, I cannot help but ponder how my actions with the Holy Water were reminiscent of my baptism...also, when Jesus was baptized by Saint John. Also, how the Sign of the Cross also reconfirmed my covenant with Jesus.
Composing myself, I think of that Christ has done for me. Complete selflessness. I am conversely confronted with all that I have done to him - every time there is a failure to respond to God's will and instead chase base desires, I inflict pain upon Jesus.
There I sit, admiring Jesus. How awesome. We have a God who created the universe. Spoke living creatures into existence. Out of all that lives, God selected us to be his friends, to carry out his divine plan. He gifted us with free choice (albeit, sometimes such feels like an impossible curse). Jesus performed miracles like walking on water, curing the blind, bringing the dead back to life. Able to make everything out of nothing, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, he elects to make himself available under the appearance of bread and wine, body and blood - he can call anything into being, but chooses to reveal himself in the most basic and accessible food. He makes the universe, but presents himself as a piece of bread! Humility.
These ponderings beg to question: When we are in the presence of our Lord, well, do we die to self and offer every part of our being to him? Or, do we instead concern ourselves with secular nonsense and make small talk with the person next to us? Do we prepare ourselves, singularly and corporately, to receive Jesus into our bodies (and live as though we have)? Or, are we more interested in bumping elbows with the priest, making sure he sees us? Conversely, why not sit with Christ and be open to his presence and work!
Mariana tha....
No comments:
Post a Comment