Overwhelmed and Excited...!

Merry Christmas! May you be filled with JOY and PEACE at the coming of Christ!

Celebrating Christmas today, I was overwhelmed with an incredible optimism. An optimism that all the growing and preparation I've been doing is going to pay off in the new year. I've never been more excited.

God has changed so much in my life, and I greatly anticipate the further changes to come! I look forward to sharing with you the ups and downs of 2010!

The call to sainthood...

Perhaps it was because I had just spent almost two hours browsing the wonderful bookstore that had books about saints aplenty, but while kneeling before my Lord at the Shrine of the Blessed Sacrament, my mind was preoccupied with the idea of sainthood.

We are all called to be saints. Sainthood isn't just for the devout monks and nuns who serve in monasteries and convents, but for all God's children. Contemplation this past weekend before the Eucharist, compounded with an impromptu reading a few days later of Saints Behaving Badly, while waiting in a Barnes and Noble to pick up a friend from the airport, has truly gotten me thinking about what Sainthood means, and looks like.

Being a saint isn't about "never sinning". Being a saint is about the total consecration of your life to the service of God's will. This can happen early in life, or late in life. Regardless, we all are called to do so with zeal, passion, and trust. Being a saint is about living "heroically", by that, I mean being filled with "heroic virtue."

From the saints, we can learn to never believe the lie that we are irreconcilable to God because of our sins. God's forgiveness and mercy should not be underestimated. No sin is too great. Nothing you can do as a human can change God's unconditional and passionate love for you. So many Saints did things that were unimaginably terrible, but God blessed them with repentance, and their lives were transformed because of it. (For examples, I suggest reading Saints Behaving Badly.)

Another important thing to realize is that sainthood isn't something that we can achieve through our own virtue, but by the virtues that are given to us by God. I certainly do not possess the capability or capacity to be a saint on my own. Through prayer and supplication to God, one asks God to mold them, and teach them to be saints.

I think it is easy to think that being a saint is unattainable because one could never justify looking at their own life at any given point and saying "Wow, I'm so great, I must be a saint or something!" I know I certainly don't. But I think it's a process, with an end that is not in this world. And I would certainly think it sad not to strive something just because its result cannot be seen.

I'm not saying sainthood is easy, but that we are all called to it. We should should strive to be saints daily, free from the inhibition of doubt.

My God and My All, make me a saint. -St. Alphonsus

Down in Adoration Falling...

This past weekend, while returning from a visit to Nashville to see Derek Webb in concert, I was blessed with the opportunity to visit Jesus at the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Hanceville, Alabama.

There are a lot of things to say about the shrine. To me, one of the most remarkable things is its location. It is, literally, in the middle of nowhere. As one who has been to the Basilica of Our Lady of Fatima in Portugal, I must admit I was shocked that such a beautiful and fruitful place for Catholic worship was available a mere 3 hour drive from my home, as opposed to a far-off (and expensive-to-visit) European location.

I personally (though I may be biased) don't think the Shrine is comparable to the beauty, size, and age of Fatima, but considering it is "middle-of-nowhere" Alabama, I'm impressed. Being there in the sweeping courtyard, I felt for a moment that I was back in Portugal, viewing the Basilica for the first time. Cliched it may be, it sent shivers up my spine.

Clearly, there are a number of differences, but the air felt much the same. Words fail me to properly convey the exact feeling. Perhaps my journal entry from July 12, 2005 can help to provide a more accurate description, though I apparently faced the same failure of words. While standing in one of the archways adjacent to the Basilica, I wrote this:

"It is hard to describe the strange calm that overcomes me as I lean against the pillars of the outdoor walkway at the Basilica of Our Lady of Fatima, listening to the gregorian chants coming from hidden speakers.

The light breeze blows my skirt and hair as I look out at Amanda and CeeCee crawl on their knees, side by side, to the chapel of Apparitions. Many others are following this same path; some using every ounce of willpower they have to keep going, even to the point of bruises and knees so bloody that they leave shining amber puddles everytime they move forward.

The sun is at my eye level, making it difficult to continue looking out at the many pilgrims that have come to celebrate the feast day of Our Lady of Fatima tomorrow. My hands folded, kneeling on the base of the railing, I pray for all those dear to me."

The disjointed writing clearly struggles to describe something so great that the senses are too feeble, and thus fail... and that brings me to my next subject.

Inside the main church of the Shrine, Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament of the Altar is exposed in an absolutely monstrous monstrance (if one can forgive the play on words!) He is surrounded in splendor that is fit for a king-- and rightly so-- He is the King of all!

But while gazing at Jesus in this grand receptacle, I realized that despite the surrounding grandeur, the Jesus I knelt in the presence of is no less the same Jesus that I adore weekly at Spirit and Truth. What power there is to be seen in that! Jesus is there; in every tabernacle, in every monstrance. He is the same; constant, divine, and loving. I am overwhelmed by His vast greatness and humility.

Christ, in all his Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity, chooses to present Himself to us in the form of a small wafer of Bread. What a great and precious gift. He is so mighty, yet humbles himself so that we might share in Communion and have Eternal Life!

Tantum ergo Sacramentum

veneremur cernui:

et antiquum documentum

novo cedat ritui:

praestet fides supplementum

sensuum defectui.

Genitori, Genitoque

laus et iubilatio,

salus, honor, virtus quoque

sit et benedictio:

procedenti ab utroque

compar sit laudatio.

Amen.

Silence...

Over the past week, somewhere in the midst of writing essays, studying for finals, barely sleeping, and getting sick, I lost my voice.

While this sometimes prevented me from having conversations (and sometimes didn't deter me at all), what stood out most to me were the two times I was in Mass.

Apparently, I have completely taken for granted the joy and community that is found in singing, both the mass parts and the hymns, with the congregation. Every time the choir began, my mouth would open. I would immediately shut it, remembering my voice and its currently uncontrollable pitches. Without singing, this Mass felt strangely empty to me, as if I wasn't fully there. I've never realized what a great part singing plays in the spirit of the entire Mass.

On the other hand, there is something to be discovered in silence. I was able to concentrate a lot on the actual text of the mass, and focus on what was actually being said and was taking place. I think being "quiet" for a while helped me to listen more to God.

That said, it was certainly an interesting experience. My voice is now on the mend, Thank the Lord! Hopefully, despite having a voice once more, I can still find the silence to hear the Lord.

P.S. Today is the feast day of Our Lady of Guadalupe! Say a Rosary today, or just spend some time in prayer with our Blessed Mother!