O Sacrament Most Holy

It's First Friday and the weekend of the Feast of Corpus Christi, and I've had this winter journal entry on my mind today.  All praise and all thanksgiving be every moment Thine.

Exposition

Through a glass brightly, the Sun in the luna.

From God’s mouth has gone forth in righteousness

A Word that shall not return void—

Brother, Lord and Lover to the end of the age—

A consummation none can bear as he is.

Speak to me like a child.

Thanks be for Your gentle veiling,

Seeming grains of wheat offering tenderly

The Light pierced and piercing, outshining

The gold of any monstrance.  A polished encirclement

Worthless itself, yet beyond price as

The peek-hole to eternity

Pressed to the white burial shroud over Your chest,

Wild and beating Sacred Heart.




---------------
Blessed Sacrament clipart from imgsoup.com

On the Drive Home

As I was driving back into town late this afternoon, feeling sick and claustrophobic in my own chest, I realized after hours of busyness and errands I'd become stuck inside myself.  Immediately, I lifted my eyes and called out, the obvious remedy.  And, in that same moment, my sight was drawn from the clarity of the blue sky to one silver-trunked tree, very tall amidst the forest lining the road.  It's branches were outstretched in joyful surrender to the sky with pale leaves like tiny mirrors flashing on a wind-chime as the breeze moved them.  I saw the forest better for that tree; the many ordinary maples and oaks surrounding this rooted light were not ordinary, and the occasional purple-red treetop stood out in contrast to those of a green shade but detracted nothing from them.  The rare dash of color in fact completed the whole with a harmony no human or accident could ever arrange.  And all of these trees, in branching out to one another, touched that swaying silver beauty and the heavens that were reflected on its leaves in the sun.  In that, their own magnificence was revealed.  That glistening tree, like a ladder, could not help but draw everything straight upward and outward, including my own mind, which one second before had been so cramped and consumed with dwelling.  I followed that tree up every twinkling branch, and all the visual noise of houses and telephone poles and litter disappeared, leaving a natural world that points to the paradise that is our Home and deepest longing.

As I drove past the tree I was overcome by gratitude in the wonder and splendor of marriage and the co-creation that flows from it, of the communion of saints, and of the astonishing truth that this is only the beginning for all of us.  And, that is Hope.  Not wishful thinking, but Easter --real, Christian Hope.  In that Hope I felt radiant that through God's perfect design of our vocation my husband and I are blessed to not only bring souls into the world, but to help one another to someday be together where the tree of life has its source.  If you ever feel stuck inside your own head, call the Source by name.  He will lift you up to places unexpected.  Whatever your vocation, married, single, priestly or religious, you're far from alone on this drive Home.

You Know You're a Catholic When...

Since my last blog post about Saint Catherine I have written nothing.  And, now, I present it to you!

You Know You’re a Catholic When…

1.  Sometime in the month of May, you find yourself chasing your alarmed 2nd grader around the house with a glass of wine pleading, “All you need to do is take one little sip!  You’ll love it!”

2.  You go to the customer service desk to retrieve your lost purse or backpack, and when they ask you to describe the contents you mention at least three of the following:  rosary, small set of fetal models, crucifix, basal thermometer, holy card, hay from a crèche, scapular, photo of your son dressed as the pope getting kissed by the pope.  (Whoa, that mom is Catholic.)

3.  At a stoplight, you suddenly realize people in the car next to you are staring because it looks like you’re checking to see if your deodorant is working, but really you just love the smell of incense so much and it’s on your jacket.  Awkward.

4.  You’ve ever been elated to discover we have a Saint Chewbacca…

14th century relief by unknown artist.  Photo by PKO, Wikimedia Commons user.  GNU Free Documentation License.

5.  …only to feel the sting of disappointment when you realize, no, actually that’s Mary Magdalene.  (Whose idea was that statue, anyway?)

6.  You have one of THOSE drawers in your nightstand.  You know the one I’m talking about.

Boom.  That drawer.

7.  Disgusted neighbors accuse you of contributing to the over-commercialization of Christmas because your entire family is dressed in red already and it’s barely even the beginning of summer.  “Isn’t it bad enough that retailers play Christmas music in August, and now here you are trying to get us to shop even earlier!  Who paid you off?!”

It's Pentecost, people.

8.  Your homemade ice cream sundaes come out looking like famous nun saints.

Tearful Children:  "Mommy, it burns!  It burns!"  Mom:  "Yes!  Her heart is a flaming cinnamon candy because it's on fire with the Holy Spirit!"

9.  A)  Your children invite you to a pretend Mass in your living room, and B) during said “Mass” your decision to leave your toddler at home on Sundays for now is vividly validated as he crashes onto the “altar” with a large plastic T-rex screaming “raaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwr” at the pretend priest and altar server.

10.  You literally want to marry Jesus.  And, as astounding as this is, you know He wants to marry you, too.