“Prayer is a surge of the heart; It is a simple look toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy” St. Therese of Liseux
This week, I was witness to God’s mystery momentarily revealed in albeit a delightful surprising way. Ministering to those with Alzheimer’s and dementia requires patience, love, and flexibility. Some days can be challenging and cloudy, and others bright and filled with amazing clarity. Being there for both makes the glimpse of memory and sudden awareness all the more beautiful. In this brief moment of grace there is a remarkable recognition of what love really means and just who Christ truly is.
“Anna” has been a resident at a particular memory care for a bit of time now. Having lost many long term cognitive abilities, she is now completely dwelling in the present. So much so, that every sentence spoken is a story unto itself. Gathered amidst this group of Catholics, as a protestant, one cannot help but notice that she actively listens. On this day, she would also actively participate.
With the first reading, she informed me that I was needed to speak louder despite my reluctance to shout. Carrying on, I noticed her attentiveness almost as if we were having a conversation with just the two of us. With the Gospel and prayers, she remained intent on savoring each word.
“Father, you are holy indeed, and all creation rightly gives you praise. All life, all holiness comes from you through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, by the working of the Holy Spirit. From age to age you gather a people to yourself, so that from east to west a perfect offering may be made to the glory of your name. And so, Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your spirit, that they may become the body + and blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, at whose command we celebrate this Eucharist…The day before he suffered, he took bread in his sacred hands and looking up to heaven, to you, his almighty Father, he gave you thanks and praise. He broke the bread, gave it to his disciples, and said: Take this all of you and eat of it” (Eucharistic Prayer 3)
Somewhere deep inside, God then touched “Anna’s” heart prompting a truly unsolicited but appropriately beautiful response.
“WOW!…” she proclaimed loudly, “That is quite a gift!”
Instantly a sacred stillness fell, a substantive pause and recognition by all that Christ was truly present. Here, without the explanation of consecration or a discussion of real presence “Anna” saw and experienced this tangible reality.
How is it then that though we come to Mass, expecting the gift to be given, we could very well leave Mass unchanged? Perhaps this gift is carelessly taken for granted, not fully understood, or we simply have become too distracted by the day’s events. Nonetheless, we then fail to probe the depth of love and mercy available not accepting of the transformation that is possible in our daily lives. The real presence of Christ then becomes an unopened gift, or one put aside for a rainy day.
Take today to seize the gift of Christ’s sacrifice and be amazed by the wonder of it all!
“The most deadly poison of our times is indifference. And this happens though the praise of God should know no limits. Let us strive therefore to praise him to the greatest extent of our powers” St. Maximilian Kolbe