Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Unveiling

Today, I got to daily Mass early.  I wish I could say this is the norm, but in fact I had an hour to kill after a meeting at work.  I decided to just head to Good Counsel and spend the time in prayer, reading, and most importantly reconciliation before Mass.  As always, I found myself wondering what I ever do that's more important than getting to Mass early (or on time).  Ugh.

So the Blessed Sacrament was exposed before Mass, but just before it began, the veil in front of the Eucharist was closed.  I felt a little pang of sadness, like "ok, bye Jesus"...but then I caught myself.  What I would be doing in 30 minutes was even more awesome than adoring Him.  Then it struck me, a thought that surely a whole bunch of much smarter and more eloquent theologians before me have already come up with: God veils what is special to Him in preparation for something to come.  (Actually, I did get that idea from Alice von Hildebrand's The Privilege of Being a Woman, but I have more).  Two examples came to mind.  The first is that the bride is veiled during the wedding ceremony until she and the groom become husband and wife.  You don't see the blusher veil so much anymore but I swoon when it's used in movies...that moment when the man lifts the veil away from his beloved's face and gazes upon her as his bride for the first time.  So good.

The other example I suppose is a bit more abstract.  But I was able to shed new light on desolations - God seemingly removing Himself from a faithful person during certain periods of his or her life.  St. John of the Cross called it the "dark night of the soul."  Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta experienced an absence of God for years at the end of her life.  WHY would a loving God do such a thing?!  Today I recalled for the first time in several years a really great confession I had when I was 21.  I was confiding my doubts about God's love because I felt like He didn't have a plan for me.  This wise young priest told me that sometimes God removes Himself from your life when He is preparing you for great love.  This greatly comforted me when I was feeling forsaken, and I'm glad I remembered it today.

So our Lord is veiled, whether that be within a gold tabernacle or behind a simple veil, during the celebration of the Mass because we aren't ready to receive Him yet.  We must first confess our sinfulness, hear His Word proclaimed, offer our gifts and our whole selves with them, present our petitions to our generous God, and make ourselves present at His Son's sacrifice on Calvary.  After proclaiming that we are not worthy to receive Jesus in His true flesh and blood...then, finally, does God make us ready.  Never do we actually become worthy, but God grants humility to those who beg it of Him.

In the eternal wedding feast, the roles are reversed.  Our unveiled Lord gives of Himself to us, His bride.  And that gift is His love...the love He seems to withhold on those dark nights.  We need only to come to Him in the Eucharist to receive it.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Freedom is...here?

This Gospel reading really struck me at a Mass I went to last week...and all I've done since is work so I'm just now getting around to this.  First of all, I have to point out that this is one of those passages immediately following the disciples suffering minor concussions and loss of IQ points.  Only those cool action sequences are never included, just the pathetic aftermath.  I love when they ask idiotic questions or answer questions in an idiotic way.  On the one hand, it's funny.  God must have laughed when it first happened, and I still do.  But more importantly, the disciples aren't any dumber than we are.  In fact, they usually have a lot more going on than we ever do.  It is refreshing to see them getting it wrong sometimes, despite the person of Christ actually walking and breathing in their midst.  Check this out:

31 To the Jews who believed in him Jesus said: If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples;32 you will come to know the truth, and the truth will set you free.  33 They answered, 'We are descended from Abraham and we have never been the slaves of anyone; what do you mean, "You will be set free?"  34 Jesus replied: In all truth I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave.  35 Now a slave has no permanent standing in the household, but a son belongs to it forever.  36 So if the Son sets you free, you will indeed be free.”

I've never heard (or more likely, never paid attention to) the Jews' response.  What a perfect way to depict our generation.  Because we don't see ourselves as slaves, we can't understand freedom.  I think I have everything I need to survive, including free will, so how could I possibly be a slave?  By most definitions, I live in the "free-est" society in the world.  I started making choices based upon nothing but my own whims as a child, and as an adult I have the power to change anything I might not like about my life.  I feed and clothe myself and pay my own rent.  I allocate the precious moments of my time somewhat evenly between obligations and pleasure.  I know my future is an array of unopened doors to be selected at my disposal.  I have never been the slave of anyone.

Wrong.  I am enslaved by so much.  I am a slave to myself.  I am a slave to how I want to look, what I want others to think of me.  I am a slave to the time that I think is my own.  I am a slave to this body which I did not create, nor do I get to keep.  I am a slave to the imperfections I pin on others, the grudges I refuse to release, and the pride that makes me think I'm better than them in the first place.  I am a slave to stereotypes, assumptions, and judgments.  I am a slave to my spiritual weakness that makes me choose sleep over prayer, silence over action in the face of injustice, my convenience over someone else's pain.  As this Gospel said, I am a slave because I sin.  All those many moments of my life when I felt I had no control over my actions?  That's because sin did.  With all the free will that I take so much delight in, I choose to let sin in...over and over and over until my wrecked body, mind and spirit are caught beneath the lash, upon the rack.  But when the pricks of sin start to get through and actually register as pain, do I recognize that and run into the arms of the One who already died to wipe my sin away?  No.  I wait until I am laid bare and bleeding, when it is almost too late...then I fall to my knees before my Savior to beg for the mercy that was already freely given.

And I still do not do this enough.  We never do.  Sin has its cold, choking hands wrapped around our society and pretty much everyone in it.  Spiritually, Mother Teresa found Americans to be the poorest, loneliest people she'd ever met.  Her sick and starving Indians had more joy in their simple lives than we'll ever know.  Our society is dominated by sex, instant gratification, an eye for an eye, and enormous, readily-injured pride.  Freedom?!  Every so-called "choice" we make is influenced by our bodily needs, the never subtle messages of media, the opinions of fellow sinners.  

We have completely interchanged the definition of freedom for the definition of bondage.  We will never understand the true freedom that comes from Christ's sacrifice until we realize how tightly we are already bound by the things of this world.  It's a mighty good thing we have the most patient Teacher to show us how to clear that up.  In fact, He gave us 40 days to do just that.