Healing Touch
A friend of mine once thought he was having a heart attack and drove himself to the emergency room where I met him. It turns out he had a panic attack. For those of you familiar with panic attacks, you know how scary they can be. Hoping to soothe his fears, I put my hand on his back . Then, I remembered how uncomfortable my friend felt about people touching him. I pulled away and just as immediately he said, “Please, keep your hand on my back.” At a time of fear and vulnerability, my friend needed the caring touch of another human.
The liturgical rites of the church often express the caring touch of God through the laying on of hands. From the earliest centuries, we have evidence that the laying on of hands was used in connection with confirmation to evoke the Holy Spirit. We see the laying on of hands in various sacraments, including confirmation and the anointing of the sick.
For the next three weekends, we will see this gesture being used with the Elect (the unbaptized) at the scrutiny rites. The scrutinies are exorcisms designed to uncover and heal all that might prevent the Elect from reaching the waters of baptism. The scrutinies acknowledge that sin and evil are real, and that all too often we are agents of these forces. Admitting that we have participated in sin and evil can be scary and can leave us feeling very vulnerable. But the gesture of the laying on of hands in the scrutiny reminds the Elect (and all of us) that we are not alone. The Holy Spirit and the community are there, offering comfort and strengthening us when we are afraid and vulnerable.
O God, help us to know that you are there in times of weakness. Strengthen us with your healing touch. AMEN.
Called by Name
One of our handbell ringers is continually brimming with enthusiasm for what she is finding by researching her family tree. Tracing my own roots, I discovered that when my grandfather came to the United States from Italy, he changed his name from a more ethnic Tomasi to a more generic “Thomas.” He was not alone. Many immigrants fearing discrimination changed their names upon entry to this country in order to fit in and find work. To have to alter our name can be a sign of oppression. Then, to be known by our true name signifies freedom. Our name helps forge our identity. What a gift it is for parents to be able to name their children! What a gift it is to be named! I think of the times I have been called by name: by my parents marking the intimacy of knowing me, by a teacher in class for an answer, by an employer to manage a project.
Being called by name symbolizes affection, respect, dignity and many times, duty. Last Sunday at the Atlanta Civic Center, hundreds of catechumens awaiting the waters of Baptism at Easter were called by name at the Rite of Election. Their names were announced by the Initiation Directors of each parish from the Book of the Elect. After announcing the names, the directors took the Book to Archbishop Gregory who kissed the names inscribed in it. What a beautiful sign of how intimately God (through the Church) cares for the newest life in our midst!! What a beautiful sign of how our God who has called Abraham and Sarah, Moses and Miriam, Hannah and Habakkuk now calls us.
Before they celebrated the Rite of Election, our Elect signed the Book of the Elect as a pledge of their commitment to the journey of faith. This Book is now located near our baptismal font as a sign that they themselves will soon be immersed in those waters. Throughout the years, hundreds of names have been added—a sign that despite the chaos in our lives and in the world, God continues to call us in freedom and faithfulness to do his work.
O God, bless our Elect and Candidates and open our ears to hear you more clearly as you call our name.
Being called by name symbolizes affection, respect, dignity and many times, duty. Last Sunday at the Atlanta Civic Center, hundreds of catechumens awaiting the waters of Baptism at Easter were called by name at the Rite of Election. Their names were announced by the Initiation Directors of each parish from the Book of the Elect. After announcing the names, the directors took the Book to Archbishop Gregory who kissed the names inscribed in it. What a beautiful sign of how intimately God (through the Church) cares for the newest life in our midst!! What a beautiful sign of how our God who has called Abraham and Sarah, Moses and Miriam, Hannah and Habakkuk now calls us.
Before they celebrated the Rite of Election, our Elect signed the Book of the Elect as a pledge of their commitment to the journey of faith. This Book is now located near our baptismal font as a sign that they themselves will soon be immersed in those waters. Throughout the years, hundreds of names have been added—a sign that despite the chaos in our lives and in the world, God continues to call us in freedom and faithfulness to do his work.
O God, bless our Elect and Candidates and open our ears to hear you more clearly as you call our name.
"And a little child shall lead them"
Last Sunday, I ran into a group of children in the church breezeway. They were concerned that one of their companions was missing. Ah, one of them determined, he must have gotten away to get a donut after Mass! With that, they went happily along to find him. I know this group by their extra-curricular activities. They are somewhat of a microcosm of the Catholic Church. They are Black, White, and Asian. Their parental roots hail from at least four different countries and three separate continents. Their differences don’t seem to matter. What does matter is sticking together and looking out for one another. Their care for one another at such a young age is striking. I can’t help but thinking their compassion is a reflection of their circumstances. One child in the group has a form of autism and struggles daily to make progress. Two others have a younger sibling who not long ago was diagnosed and survived leukemia. Already, they have a sense of what it means to die and to rise.
Our young friends are a profound example of evangelization, of how the Eucharist makes Church and how the Church makes Eucharist. They are being formed as a body broken, poured out, dead and risen, open, available, vulnerable and united at the core. They, in turn, are forming and attracting others. Their parents told me other children are coming up to them and basically saying, “I want what you have.”
Like these children who are learning how to companion each other through life, we are called during Lent to companion our catechumens, (the unbaptized) and our candidates, (the baptized who seek full communion or the completion of the initiation sacraments). Since the earliest centuries of the Church, Lent has been about walking with the catechumens in their final preparation for the sacraments of new life.
O Lord, as you companion us, may we take seriously our role to be good companions on the journey of faith. AMEN.
Mardi Gras Madness
During Lent, our liturgies too are somewhat “emptied”. Plants are removed leaving the sanctuary sparse. The music we sing is more contemplative. The Gloria is omitted, and the Alleluia, known for its association with Easter is modified with different words which reflect the more solemn season.
Like our Lenten liturgies, we too are invited by the disciplines of Lent to be "emptied"; to clear away the clutter and to simplify our lives. We are called to fast in order to hunger more deeply for the living God and to remember those who daily go without the basic necessities of life. We are called to simplify our schedules in order to make more room for prayer and for works of charity. We are called to remove the masks we wear in order to take an honest look at ourselves, our lives, and our way of living. We are called to empty ourselves of ourselves in order to let God fill us with God’s self.
O Lord, may the disciplines of Lent unite us more and more with the dying and rising of Jesus. Amen.
Singing can be good for you!
A couple weeks ago, the New York Times reported that Representative Gabrielle Giffords, the Arizona congresswoman currently rehabilitating from a bullet wound to the brain is being aided by the use of song. Giffords is apparently lip-syncing songs to help regain full function of her speech. It reminds me of the time my Aunt Mary went into a nursing home. Her mind was failing but once a week when the music therapists came to sing songs with the residents, Aunt Mary appeared to be sharp as a tack. She sang those familiar melodies planted deep in her bones by heart and with heart. Ah! I mused, the power of ritual song!
Ritual singing is what we do each time we gather for liturgy. St. Augustine explained that singing is for lovers. It’s what people in love do! Who among us in the throes of falling in love hasn’t wandered about singing or whistling a tune??? God is in love with us! We are in love with God! Words are not enough to express our feelings! We must sing!!!!
But singing takes guts—ask any cantor! Singing involves risk and vulnerability. Yet, this is exactly what is asked of each of us when we celebrate liturgy—to be open, vulnerable and willing to go beyond our comfort zones.
When I often ask people to join the choir, I usually get the same stock answer, “I can’t sing.” Everyone can sing, at different levels perhaps, but EVERYONE CAN SING! As J-Glen Murray said during a recent day of reflection at STA, “Whatever kind of voice God has given you, you need to give it back to him.” So, next time you’re at Mass, lift up your voice in song, loudly, lavishly. It will lift your spirits and might even save your life.
O Lord, give us the joy and the courage to sing!