It’s Easter morning, and I was distressed. I went to the tomb and Jesus wasn’t there.
I’m referring to what happened to me in the sacristry. I was at 7:30 Mass and a man with his daughter approached me and asked what to do about his daughter receiving Communion and her celiac disease. I explained about the celiac wafers we have on hand and that Father would come shortly and talk to him. Father did come and I noticed that the man didn’t see him. He was still waiting for the priest.
I looked around the room and saw the problem. Do you know that there were three, 3, yes, three priests in the sacristry, and not one of them was in a Roman collar! So the man and his daughter were still waiting.
“Irked” describes my feelings. I bet the Protestant ministers were in Roman collars. But our Catholic priests were in civies. It’s Easter! Even the Walmart people were dressed in their best!
I was not in the proper mood to worship. Then, when Communion time came, I was shocked to see an acquaintance go up and receive the Eucharist. I know her to be virulently anti-Catholic. Her husband grew up Catholic, but married to her, he fell away. I have seen him for a month or so, at Sunday Mass—alone. But this morning, there she was, too.
I felt my blood pressure rise up, but I realized that I was not in the proper attitude to receive, myself, and went into prayer. By the grace of God, my attitude changed. I then saw two old friends, who had stopped going to church, in line to receive. And I also saw a slew of people, who I didn’t even know were Catholic, in the Communion line.
And I thought this was a good thing.
As Père Lataste would say, « J’ai vu des choses merveilleuses. »