Church last night

I had a rather different experience than A last night when I went to church. I had been feeling lost and disconnected over the weekend, and longing to come home like the prodigal son, and wondering if I even could.

The answer was made apparent to me so quickly, so easily - of course I could! I had been asked to lead the folk group last night, as our leader ran a marathon yesterday and was totally wiped out. We arrived at church about 7:25 PM, and I was not looking forward to this experience. Leading the music is very, very stressful. Normally I have to set up the PA system from scratch, I have to find overheads for hymns that I've planned to do, and then can't find them, and I have to find someone to show the overheads. And when I'm alone, I invariably develop tuning problems. Ugh.

But when I wandered in, things were very different right away. A good friend of mine was the Sacristan, and she had set up the PA system for me, knowing how much it sets me back. Talk about finding the Christ in others! She had already changed the timbre of the evening for me. With not having this to do, I went to the cabinet to begin the dreaded task of pulling overheads. But not only did I not have difficulty finding them, they basically leaped out of the cabinet at me. Every folder I turned over was one of the hymns I had planned - it was astonishing, and past coincidence (there's a thousand hymns in there.) I wandered downstairs with an ease of mind that was beginning to disconcert me.

Perhaps as if to assure me that things can never go perfectly smooth, I discovered our song books were missing one of the songs I planned to do, as I prepared the books for our rehearsal. But, coincidence again, I happened to have the words to the song in my music bag upstairs, so I ran up and dashed back down again.

When we began rehearsing our first song, Be Exalted, my jaw dropped; we were astonishingly good! Even though we traditionally only do this song once a year, everyone was jumping in with rich harmonies and deep feeling. I was more than moved. At this moment I knew: God's gentle touch in my life was reminding me that we are never past grace. That grace is always there, always rushing out in joy with a ring for your finger when we decide to trudge home in shame to the Father's house.

Yesterday was the The feast of the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, and I am reminded somewhat ironically of a Protestant hymn, There's Power in the Blood. I believe that quite literally, and communion is an ecstatic experience for me. If only I can touch the hem of his garment, I often think to myself, I can be made clean. In communion is the complete mystery of the faith journey, past, present, and future united in a heaven beyond the scope of time itself in a glorious moment of divine peace, ecstasy, and serenity, Anima Christi, the name of the prayer that follows.

Soul of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O good Jesus, hear me.
Within Thy wounds hide me.
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee.
From the malignant enemy, defend me.
In the hour of my death, call me.
And bid me come to Thee.
That with Thy saints I may praise Thee.
Forever and ever. Amen