A Day To Rejoice

(CHRISM NEWS/ MARIS BENTLEY) It was a miracle….to me, for me. A miracle from Our Lord to show me how much He loves me on a day when I sorely needed His love.

Guadete Sunday morning, the third Sunday of Advent, and a family squabble ensued—angry words, hurt feelings….finally followed by apologies. Yet, the pain still lingered, as it often does. Resentment at past unresolved hurts surfaced, as it often does.

Finally, we agreed to go to Mass together, but not without some discussion and compromise. On the way to Mass, still feeling sorrowful, I prayed and asked Our Lord for healing—healing for all of us, healing for me; healing for old wounds, healing from sinful thoughts, words, and actions.

Mass was beautiful, as it always is. It doesn’t really matter about the preaching or the quality of the music, the Mass is the Mass. We hear, read, and sing the Word of God from Sacred Scripture. We receive the Word of God made flesh and blood in the Eucharist. The Mass is the opportunity to know we are especially loved by Jesus who humbles Himself to become flesh and blood for us, right there in front of us, at Mass.

We went up to receive Him together. We knelt to pray together, offering our pain and sorrow in union with His holy sacrifice on the cross, and His holy sacrifice made present for and in us at Mass.

Always on the verge of tears after I receive Him, I stood up for the final prayers and blessing, and then I saw It. On the carpeted floor, right by the kneeler was a round, white object the size of the Eucharist. What was it, I puzzled? My granddaughter had Cheerios, not crackers at Mass that day. It had not been there at all during the Mass. What was it? I exchanged quizzical looks with my daughter, and bent down to pick up the object—it was Jesus in the Eucharist! How did the Eucharist get on the floor in front of us? Did someone drop or toss the Eucharist aside?

As I stood there holding Jesus reverently in the palm of my hand, I looked over my right shoulder at the two women behind us. One of them gently whispered, “It is a host?” I nodded. I looked again at her and she instructed me, “Consume it.” So I carefully placed Jesus in my mouth, and made the sign of the cross.

By now, Mass was over, and the final song had begun. As I knelt and prayed my usual prayers of thanksgiving after Mass, my heart swelled within me. I had received a double dose of Jesus’ love and graces at Mass that day! He always knows just what I need, doesn’t He?

I was amazed and overcome by the thought of His humility. Jesus came to save me 2,000 years ago as a tiny baby born in a stable to an impoverished family. Today, He comes to me at every Mass, humbling Himself by becoming the True Bread of Life to strengthen and nourish me on my life’s journey. And today, He humbly came to me a second time, not in a manger, but on a dirty carpeted floor under my feet.

O, the love and humility of such a Redeemer God! Guadete—it means “Rejoice!” And I do!

#opinion