This past weekend has been filled with many beautiful signal graces, thanks to Our Lord's Goodness.
On Sunday, our parish had the extraordinary blessing of having Mass said by a visiting priest. What was so extraordinary was that this young Scottish priest (whom we've already dubbed Father Braveheart) has only been ordained for about a month, and to me there is nothing more beautiful than a freshly-minted priest saying Mass.
He gave us a fantastic homily on the reception of Our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. It was straightforward and simple, but full of quiet zeal and humble devotion. Father poignantly reminded us of Our Lord's words : "He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, abideth in me, and I in him." (John 6:57) "What closer union can there be between God and man?" Father asked, before going on to quote St. Paul. "For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh judgement to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord." (1 Corinthians 11:29) Father then exhorted us to make sure that we "sounded the depths of our soul" before approaching the Communion rail and reminded us that we should receive Our Lord with humility and reverence. I've heard all this before, of course, but there was just something about the way he said it...
Alter Christus, indeed.
After Mass, Father Braveheart gave First Blessings, which are a rare treat. A priest can only give his First Blessing to you once (of course) and only for the first year of being ordained. There is a plenary indulgence attached (with the proper conditions being met, as usual. Confession, Communion, prayers for the Holy Father, and freedom from attachment to sin). The whole parish (or at least the 150 or so people at the 10:15 Mass) stood in line to receive Father's blessing, despite the heat and humidity that permeated our un-air conditioned church.
I was struck by how lovely it was to see whole families waiting in line for Father's blessing. Little children danced with anticipation (or impatience, I suppose) to approach the rail, and my youngest sister was a joy to watch as Father moved down the line of kneeling faithful. Being the tiny little slip of a girl that she is, Dolly stood at the communion rail next to Mommy, her curls bouncing and a bright grin on her face. She was so excited to be able to "get something" at the rail with everyone else for a change, being too young to receive yet. When Father got to her, however, she went perfectly still, a solemn expression on her little face as Father placed his hands on her curly mop and then blessed her. Without being told, she kissed each of his hands reverently, and took the proffered ordination card joyfully, gazing at it like it was the most valuable treasure as she tried not to skip back to the pew.
I think it was watching her kiss Father's hands that really got me. There was just something divine about watching the innocent solemnity of my four-year-old sister kiss the hands of a newly ordained priest. The expression on her face was enough to tell me that she understood why she was kissing them. Granted, she may not intellectually comprehend everything about it, but on a fundamental level she does. She knows it's because "Father touched Jesus," and she understands the feeling of respect and reverence... it's just the faith of the 'little children.'
It was a reminder of how my faith should be... unwavering, unquestioning and with complete trust in God's grace.
"Come, O Jesus, come and take possession of my heart; it shall belong entirely to Thee; come and visit me, and strengthen me in Thy grace, O Lord."
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