The Church of the Transfiguration.
Beautiful churches are a draw for me. I know that many people grumble and gripe about the grandeur of many of our Catholic Churches, but I need them in my life. We have enough ugliness in the world, I need a place full of beauty.
Each time I walk through the doors of a magnificent church, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t know if describing it as a sigh of relief is accurate, but it’s as if my soul sighs relief. It’s hard to explain.
Regardless, I need to be in this beautiful space in the presence of Christ.
The church we just left in DC and our new church here in Alabama are suburb churches, nothing incredible. Something happened in the 60s to art and architecture that is a great mystery that leaves one wondering, “What they heck happened?”
It’s always a little down-heartening for me to attend churches that lack beautiful art and architecture. It can give me a bad attitude sometimes. This week, at Daily Mass, I talked to God about this and He reminded me of the Transfiguration.
When Christ was here in earth, He usually looked just like a ordinary guy. He didn’t “look” like anything special and people couldn’t see Him for who He truly was—the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity.
He gave Peter, James, and John, though, a glimpse into His supreme magnificence.
Our beautiful churches are the best way that we humans try to depict Heaven. I’m grateful that we have so many beautiful ones to raise our hearts and minds to God.
The ordinary ones, though, are kind of like Jesus walking around when He was on earth; people couldn’t see with their eyes who He truly was.
So, God shared with me in my thoughts, “Remember what is happening on the altar. Angels and saints are in your midst adoring My Son there.”
When I started to imagine the space around the altar filled with heavenly beings it changed my attitude. While I may not always have the benefit of “seeing” what is truly happening, like the three Apostles did at the Transfiguration, incredible things are happening at the moment of Consecration—even in a suburban church on a weekday at 8:45 am.
Have a blessed Feast Day of the Transfiguration, Catholic Pilgrims.
I was watching a video the other day on the Passion of Jesus by Edward Siri. At one point, he is standing inside the Holy Sepulcher up on Golgotha. (Yes, it's all inside this massive church.) It brought back a lot of amazing memories of being up there. That's me under the altar there in the picture. See the rocks under the glass cases? Anyway, watching Edward Siri talk, I realized something very profound. Up on Golgotha, there is the space where Christ died. The altar is over the hole in the rock where His cross was stuck in the ground. Facing the altar, over on the right side is a place for Mass. It is beautiful and lighted. Over on the left side, it is dark. Very dark. What's so interesting is that it's dark and huge and it seems to drop off into an abyss. What I realized is that on either side of Jesus hung two thieves. Their responses to Jesus truly reflect the aesthetics up on Golgotha. The "good thief" had the first confession up there on his cross and he repents, asking Christ to remember him. Jesus tells him he will be with him in Paradise. The side with the place for Mass reflects the good thief's decision to come to Christ.--light and beauty. The other thief mocks Jesus and never repents. The side of darkness up on Golgotha reflects his decision to harden his heart and continue to deny Christ up until his last breath. This is the choice laid before all of us: Do we choose to turn to Christ and repent desiring to be with Him in Paradise? Or do we choose to turn away from Christ and be suffocated by our sins to only one day fall off into darkness and the abyss? This Good Friday, as we meditate on Our Savior's Passion, let us do whatever it takes in our lives to always turn towards Christ. May you have a blessed Good Friday, Catholic Pilgrims.
Continue ReadingOn October 20th, 2020, when my family was living in Izmir, Turkey, we experienced a 7.0 earthquake. My kids and I were on the 15th floor of our apartment building and the building swayed and bucked in the most terrifying and unnatural of ways. For 45 seconds, which seems like an eternity in an earthquake. Certain that the building was coming down on me and my kids, I did all I could think to do and we stood in a door frame praying the Our Father. After it was over, I told my kids to just run. Run out. They ran out with no shoes on and I quickly followed. To make a long story short, the higher ups in the military were worried about a tsunami and so they told my husband to get all military members to higher ground. We ended up in a very poor neighborhood surrounded by Syrian refugees. The contrast in groups could not have been more striking. At one point, a Syrian mother came over to me and started pointing at my feet. I couldn't understand her but it was clear she was asking where my shoes were and the shoes of my children. Through lots of hand gestures, I tried to explain that we just ran out of a tall building. She seemed to ponder this and then walked away. Soon, she came back with shoes for my kids. I was baffled. Here was this poor woman giving to me from the little she had. She saw a mother and her kids in need and she wanted to help. At first, I denied them. I felt horrible taking from her. But, she quickly made it clear that I was not to deny her. I realized that I needed to gratefully accept her gift because she was trying to serve us in some capacity. She was trying to help. She was trying to love. It was one of the greatest acts of charity I have ever received. Peter initially tells Christ not to wash his feet. He doesn't want to be served, he should serve. But, Christ gently rebukes him for this. We find meaning and purpose when we serve others. Sometimes our service to others helps to humble us; sometimes receiving service helps to humble us. It is a great reminder that one of the best ways to love each other is to serve each other, Catholic Pilgrims. Have a blessed Holy Thursday. *These are the shoes given to us.
Continue ReadingWhen I was 17 and turned away from God, I still pretended that I was some kind of stellar Christian. However, I traded a relationship with God to feel comforted by my anger. That's weird to say, but the intense anger I felt was comforting to me. It wasn't real comfort, but it fueled me. But, also, I traded church for sleeping in because I was tired. I traded reading Scripture for watching, listening, and reading whatever secular trash the world could supply me. I traded prayer for doing whatever I wanted to do. All the while, I sat there and lived this barely existent Christian life, yet I had the gall to feign like I wasn't betraying my Lord. "Surely it is not I?" In fact, I did say similar things to Judas in my attempt to pretend like I wasn't one of the betrayers. "Me? Oh, no, not me?" Judas traded the Bread of Life for some money and nearly 2,000 years later we look back and say, "Man, look at him. Gave it all up for thirty pieces of silver. Idiot." However, many give up the Eucharist for even less and we fail to see it. For good music. For an inspiring sermon. For sports. For sleep. For simply the desire to sin while pretending God doesn't see us. There isn't a trade on earth that is worth giving up Christ, Catholic Pilgrims. Nothing could possibly satisfy us like He can. Live the Faith boldly and travel well this Wednesday of Holy Week.
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