Friday, January 13, 2012

From another's perspective

Sometimes, we have things right in front of our eyes, and don't even notice them.

There is a practice in this parish which dates back a number of years (I really don't know how many), of Adoration of the Exposed Blessed Sacrament.  Every Friday, the Adoration begins after the completion of the noon Mass and continues until 3:00pm.  The rule is that there must be at least one person adoring at all times, otherwise, the Blessed Sacrament should not be left in the monstrance.

In some parts of the world, a period of exposition draws crowds; in other parts, it seems to be an occasion for just a few to spend some quality time with Our Lord.  Perhaps that's the trick though.  I wonder how many people realize that this is a privileged time, an occasion to spend a moment before the Lord in prayer.  If more of us understood this, perhaps things would be a bit different.

But don't trust my ramblings on this subject.  Instead, here's the testimony of another, posted in an online publication called Catholic Exchange.  For ease of readership, the text of some of her article is reprinted below:

Last summer's motor vacation took us through Door County, Wisconsin and my husband and I stopped for Sunday Mass at St. Rosalia's, the  Stella Maris parish in Sister Bay.

Something unusual happened the day we visited that parish.  After genuflecting, we slipped into a row and leaned forward to lower the kneelers. There were no kneelers to lower.


It was the Solemnity of Corpus Christi. And we were in a Catholic church, but we wouldn’t be kneeling at the moment of Consecration – the very moment that the Corpus Christi would come to us in the Eucharist.  My heart ached for kneelers. Doesn’t that sound strange coming from a former Protestant who spent forty years in churches that didn’t have kneelers?


I wondered as I sat there. Why had they left out kneelers when they built this church? I guessed that the decision had been made in an attempt to welcome visitors. This area of Wisconsin had its share of tourists. I suspected that the parishioners had hoped to welcome anyone and everyone.


I visited a few Catholic churches as a child. On those rare occasions, I did think the kneelers were a strange addition to a sanctuary. Kneelers were part of the list of Catholic oddities that included incense, bells, and statues.


So why was my heart heavy on that Solemnity of Corpus Christi? If I could live without kneelers for forty years, surely I could worship without them during this one Mass.  But there’s one thing that changes everything for me. That one thing is Jesus Christ, Our Eucharistic Lord.


I came to the Catholic Church with a love for Christ, and when I grasped the Truth – that this same Christ was truly present in the Eucharist -  everything changed.


I thought of St. Paul’s letters. To the Romans, he writes,
“As I live, every knee shall bend, and every tongue shall give praise to God.” To the Philippians, St. Paul writes, “that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend in heaven and on earth.”

That day in Door County, I knew that this same Lord would come to all of us. And there was no kneeler upon which to bend our knees. At the end of Mass, the priest made an announcement.
“There are envelopes in the pews if you wish to make a donation for kneelers. We want to comply fully with our Bishop’s mandate for every parish in the diocese to have kneelers,” he said.  I blinked back tears. This bishop was a shepherd after St. Paul’s own heart! And I pulled out my checkbook and wrote a check.
I understand the desire to make all people feel welcome. And I remember all too well what it was like to see the kneelers and not understand. To watch the incense going up, to hear the bells and not know that Jesus Christ had just arrived.  Just bells for no reason. Incense to be different. Kneelers to pray when I could pray while standing or sitting, whether indoors or outside.


But if you had asked me what I would do if Jesus Christ walked through the door, if Jesus came to me in the Flesh and stood before me – even back then I would have smiled and answered without hesitation.


I’d hit my knees.


There is one thing in the Mass that changes everything. Jesus Christ comes to us really and truly- Corpus Christi. All praise, glory, honor, and power belong to Our Lord.


God bless the bishops for reminding us: We have the Body of Christ.


The full text of this reflection, entitled If there are no kneelers, is it a Catholic Church, can be found on the Catholic Exchange website.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

We sometimes don't know how blessed we are. In Sudbury we have Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament every Friday afternoon at Christ the King and every day, 24 hours a day, in the chapel at Our Lady of Hope. That is such a special blessing...to be able to kneel or sit in front of our Lord and be able to talk to Him, pray to Him, Adore Him...up close and personal. In Medjugorje they have Adoration with guided prayers every night at 10, during the summer months it is outside. The seats hold close to 6000 people and it is packed every night, with the majority of the crowd being local. I was surprised too that there were no kneelers but everyone was kneeling on the ground,either on concrete for the more fortunate spots, or on the gravel, sometimes very damp from the rain. And they knelt for the full hour of the Adoration. You could tell the visitors from the locals. The visitors bought sponge mats to ease their discomfort. I think North America is one of the few places where our kneelers are padded. Hummm...do we have something to learn from this?