Ash Wednesday - (The) Who says...

Somehow we've gotten through another year and back to Lent. I have no idea how that happened so we won't spend any more time on it except to say that everything in the world is kind of odd these days. 

My kids would tell you I blame social media for most of the evils in the world and I would say they're only partially wrong. We're in a time of such increased emotion coupled with decreased sense. Truly, I'm one of the biggest clickbait-fallers (new word) there is. That's why I do try to share most of what I see with DH. He's usually good for straightening out my thinking on something or seeing it from another angle. Ultimately, when something, a conversation, a post, a video, causes confusion or unrest or stirs up a desire to lash out with no charity or compassion, it's not good...I don't care where it came from. You can argue righteous anger as much as you want. Jesus said "I desire Mercy" and you need to lead with that. 

As always, I struggle with all of this myself so, I beg you, do not take any of this as coming from some theologian or learned person. I'm just trying more, every day, to open myself to God and His working in my life. He never, never ceases to surprise and delight. Today did not disappoint. It's Ash Wednesday. 

 

a little funny to break up all.the.words

I'm trying to trust God more and see Him everywhere (He is, isn't He?) so, sometimes, I admit, I will kind of test Him to see what happens. I hear the Holy Spirit laugh every single time because, duh, God is everywhere. If you're looking, you will find Him.

So, today, I decided on 8:30 AM at Mary, Mother of God parish, St. Patrick worship site. Full disclosure, the son of our dear friends is a priest there so I figured there was some chance he might be presiding and it's only 15 minutes from my office. I did not luck out with the familiar priest. The rest was definitely worth more than the price of admission.

I walked in, visited the restroom (it was a long drive) and took my place 2/3 of the way up, on the right, in the middle. Next, the debate. Do I veil or do I not veil? For those who don't know (because I don't write anything on here anymore, I veil now. It happened as a result of Covid. It will be for another post sometime but, generally, I look a bit like this:

oh, except no mask...told you it was Covid ;0)

So, veil tucked safely in my pocket, I have some internal debate...no one here will wear one, it will probably be a source of scandal for someone, no one knows I veil here, so I just won't. Except I do. And I do because of reasons that don't change depending on which church I'm in. Ok, veil comes out and gets clipped onto the head. I look through the readings and try to be as inconspicuous as possible before Mass begins. When I look up, there is a woman 3 rows ahead of me, with a black veil on her head.

"Don't you trust Me?"

"Well, yes, I do, which is why I put it on but thank you just the same for the reassurance."

Mass begins, we get ashes (I remember to pull my bangs up for the benefit of the distributer - see Fr. Alec's revulsion of touching people's hair - and because, then, they can nestle them up in there, nicely covered by my bangs and, as such, be nearly imperceptible to my coworkers...just a subliminal evangelization. 

Communion time. Next internal debate...Typically, I genuflect and take by mouth. While watching the other people ahead of me receive, it's clear that every person, even the woman in the veil, takes by hand. Well, I believe what I believe so, please don't let this guy behind me trip while I'm genuflecting ...except I didn't get that far because when I was third from the front, the woman in the line beside me, three people up, KNELT and took by mouth! "Oh, thank you God." I said it out loud, not loudly, but I know I did because the person beside me looked over with an odd face. I'm the crazy lady, no worries. 

"Don't you trust Me?"

"Well, yes, I do, but thank you just the same for the reassurance."

Back to the pew to pray after Communion. I was towards the front so there was plenty of time. I was praying for a fruitful, useful Lent, when a discussion I had with #2 came to my brain...he said, "You know, when I was little, I used to wish everyone a sad Lent, because it's sad." We had a discussion, which ultimately ended with remembering the happiness that follows the sadness. Enduring happiness. 

I was looking up in the sanctuary, thinking about that, and I saw the open tabernacle. Now, I've never been up close with an open tabernacle but I know there are other things that are in there - more than just the ciborium (ciboria? Sorry, Sil) that are being used but, at that moment, not seeing any of that, all I could think of was the empty tomb. He is risen, He is not here. 

Now, I realize, on Ash Wednesday, that is a very not-proper thing to think so, thank you for your charity towards my brain at the moment. I think it had to do with a discussion we had over the weekend with friends. One church is bringing back patens to help people realize that the Eucharist is special - it's the Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity of Our Savior. That's pretty special!

So, I'm not sure why the empty tomb except to say, He's not there during Communion, He's here - with us, in us - He comes to us each Communion and we take Him with us when we leave - even during Lent. How remarkable is that? 

The homily was good - talking about prayer (we should go to daily Mass every day...even if we have to watch it via livestream later!), fasting (don't gossip - it means no Christan reason...or something like that - it was a good explanation...like you can talk about someone being in the hospital to pray for them but not just to gossip - if there's no Christian reason to mention it), and alms-giving. That I liked specifically...he talked about being charitable in your home first and, when you get that mastered, go out to the people (or at least work on it first). 

I chose to stay in my pew and pray after the recessional (ok, partly because I didn't want to small talk with anyone) but also to test myself. I heard on my favorite radio show the other day that Pope Francis, every day, says to the crucifix, "If you will it, You can make me clean." Then prays five Our Fathers, concentrating on each of Christ's five wounds. I heard that he does it before he sleeps so I tried it. No. I can't do anything repetitive or contemplative before sleep. It's not a good plan.

So, having some extra time while I was ducking the small talk, I knelt down and began. I'm ashamed to say I made it through 2 before I realized I was thinking about something else. That is how pathetically short my time span is (see above about Social Media). I'm not surprised that it's short - hourly Sunday Adoration is always a challenge - but goodness, I can't pray 5 Our Fathers? Ug. So, God being merciful, He allowed me to finish in a short while, after a few attempts. I think He was waiting a bit because on the 3rd or 4th failed attempt, into my brain, "pop" 

See Me.

Feel Me. 

Touch Me.

Heal Me.

Seriously, God, The WHO? 

Of course. Because, when I looked it up later, the lyrics aren't all that terrible and definitely something, for me, to ponder this Lent. Possibly most, the forgotten second verse:

        Right behind you, I see the millions

        On you, I see the glory
        From you, I get opinion
        From you, I get the story

More on that down the road, I suppose but, looking at those last two lines...Of course, God's "opinion" is the only one that matters in living my life and the story is His. His story. That's all we need for Eternal Life. For the happiness that never ends. For the mercy we have prayed for. Following Him is so much better than all the voices on Social Media or the radio or the newspapers.

Join me in Getting the Story from God this Lent. Let's learn to turn to Him for the first and only opinion on something. He is waiting. Just ask.