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The Church of the Transfiguration.
Beautiful churches are a draw for me. I know that many people grumble and gripe about the grandeur of many of our Catholic Churches, but I need them in my life. We have enough ugliness in the world, I need a place full of beauty.
Each time I walk through the doors of a magnificent church, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t know if describing it as a sigh of relief is accurate, but it’s as if my soul sighs relief. It’s hard to explain.
Regardless, I need to be in this beautiful space in the presence of Christ.
The church we just left in DC and our new church here in Alabama are suburb churches, nothing incredible. Something happened in the 60s to art and architecture that is a great mystery that leaves one wondering, “What they heck happened?”
It’s always a little down-heartening for me to attend churches that lack beautiful art and architecture. It can give me a bad attitude sometimes. This week, at Daily Mass, I talked to God about this and He reminded me of the Transfiguration.
When Christ was here in earth, He usually looked just like a ordinary guy. He didn’t “look” like anything special and people couldn’t see Him for who He truly was—the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.
He gave Peter, James, and John, though, a glimpse into His supreme magnificence.
Our beautiful churches are the best way that we humans try to depict Heaven. I’m grateful that we have so many beautiful ones to raise our hearts and minds to God.
The ordinary ones, though, are kind of like Jesus walking around when He was on earth; people couldn’t see with their eyes who He truly was.
So, God shared with me in my thoughts, “Remember what is happening on the altar. Angels and saints are in your midst adoring My Son there.”
When I started to imagine the space around the altar filled with heavenly beings it changed my attitude. While I may not always have the benefit of “seeing” what is truly happening, like the three Apostles did at the Transfiguration, incredible things are happening at the moment of Consecration—even in a suburban church on a weekday at 8:45 am.
Have a blessed Feast Day of the Transfiguration, Catholic Pilgrims.
Most of us aren't ever going to come across someone out in public who is literally battered, bruised, and left for dead. It's not impossible that we would stumble upon such a situation, but the chances are more likely that we will come in contact with someone that is spiritually or emotionally battered. Way back at the start of my husband's career in the Air Force, I took a summer job at base legal. I was a front office helper with very little work to do. Most days, I was bored out of my mind. There was too little work for too many people. This suited my immediate boss just fine. She was content to do nothing and even got annoyed when people came to receive services. Consequently, I spent much of my time at work trying to find anything to do. My time there was not long after 9/11 and a lot of people on base were deploying people. One day, the phone rang and I answered, "Base legal, this is Amy." The guy on the other end was crying and said, "Ma'am, I just came home from deployment and my wife took my kids, took everything in my house, and cleaned out my bank account. I have nothing. I'm just calling to see what my legal options are." I wasn't able to pass him off to a JAG officer right at that time, but I chose to stay on the phone with him and listen to him. I knew the truth of the matter was that base legal could help very little. He needed an outside attorney. But, I decided to offer my ear. After a good while of listening, I was able to pass him over to an attorney and our phone call ended. My immediate boss started scolding me by saying, "We are not a counseling agency. You can't be holding up the lines talking to people we can't help." I responded back, "Look, I am not about to hang up the phone on someone in that situation. I didn't counsel him, I offered my time and attention." Today's reading from the Gospel of Luke is about the Good Samaritan, a story we are all familiar with. Like I said in the beginning, most of us won't come across people on the side of the road left to die, but we will come across people that need our time, attention, and love. Have a blessed Sunday, Catholic Pilgrims. *Altar is from Mission San Gabriel in Los Angeles, CA
Continue ReadingYesterday, my oldest daughter and I were FaceTiming with my sister. At one point in the conversation, we got around to talking about an old boyfriend of my sister's that she dated like 20 years ago. Needless to say, he wasn't the best guy to her. My sister said, "Did I tell you guys that he wrote me a letter awhile back?" My daughter and I were shocked. "What?! No, you didn't tell us. What did he say?" My sister had a screen shot of it and she started searching for it to read it to us. While we were waiting, I was joking about him. In my mind, I assumed the letter was going to be some sappy I-want-you-back letter. I thought, "Oh, boy, can't wait to hear this pathetic letter. Of course, he's been obsessed with her all this time." My sister found it and she read it to us. After each sentence, I kept waiting for him to beg and plead for her back. But..he didn't. In fact, the letter was an apology letter. He apologized to my sister, took complete ownership for his bad behavior, and wished her well. That was it. No begging. No desperation. No strings attached. It was simply him trying to make amends. I was stunned. And then I felt two things: 1. Shame over how quick I was to assume that the letter was just going to be some pathetic attempt at getting my sister back after all these years and 2. A deep sadness that I have never received such a letter from my two boyfriends that treated me so terribly. Very quickly, though, I changed my heart and mind. I needed to be glad that my sister's ex had changed as a man and tried to make peace. We should be grateful when people have a true conversion and owe up to their sins. I needed to be thankful that he apologized to my sister. As for not receiving apology letters myself, well, I need to be okay with that. Maybe it will happen, but maybe it won't. I need to continue to pray, though, for my two ex-boyfriends regardless. May we always hope and pray that people find a way to confession, redemption, and, if possible, reconciliation, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingThis is Mission Miguel in Sante Fe, New Mexico. It is the oldest church in the United States, which the original walls and altar built in 1610. It's so wonderful that we still have it. There was a time, when the church was the focal point of a town or village. Life moved and centered itself around the church, because the Sacraments were just that important. Whenever people moved to a new area, a church needed to be built. It was a necessity. You don't hear too often, though, of people moving to an area because of a vibrant church community. Jobs and schools are the two main considerations, which isn't bad in the slightest. Both of those things are important things to consider. However, I rarely, if ever, hear someone mention the importance of moving somewhere where the church community is strong and thriving. It's a lower-tiered consideration, if it's even one at all. Of course, work may call you to a place where life isn't centered around church and worship. In those circumstances, it is up to us to continue to find ways to feed our hearts and minds with good spiritual things. Our souls cannot be neglected. I love St. Frances Cabrini's practice. No matter where she was or what island or country she was sailing past, she always looked for the steeples to let her know where Jesus was residing in the Tabernacle. Have a blessed Tuesday, Catholic Pilgrims.
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