My Good Friday

As a music director, I really don't get much of a chance to live a liturgical season as I'm planning and rehearsing music ahead- singing the “a” word during lent and such. Beginning in grade school I formed a bad habit of being on auto-pilot at Mass. When I first had a “conversion” and started caring about my faith in college, it was quite awhile after that I realized I was still on auto-pilot and zoning out during mass not thinking about anything really. I tried to start keeping my brain more active but that habit keeps coming back. It got a little better, and then I got a job as a music director. When one does 3-4 masses on average every Sunday, auto-pilot becomes a survival technique. I hear my cue: “Let us proclaim the mystery of faith:” to which I respond with the 4 chord intro to the memorial acclamation. No thought necessary. It's almost hypnotizing. This habit leaks over to my other masses I play during the week, and even worse, sometimes I discover after the 4th Sunday mass that I haven't really heard the Gospel. I was there, yes, but it didn't stick. The plan was to be “awake” for the first mass of the day, then allow myself to check out. Habits. Ugh.

Also, in the last few years, I've been metaphorically grasping some things rather than allowing God to give them to me as gifts, if only I would trust. (Think the fist around something in a jar and you can't get the fist out because its holding on to whatever...but if you let go, you can get your hand out and whatever else it is).

So yesterday, Good Friday, I decided to take some time with the Lord and remember his passion. Our altar of repose is in our daily mass chapel, so I went in there at 2:45 and said the sorrowful mysteries and divine mercy chaplet, and I forced myself to let the mysteries seep into me. IWell, it worked. My heart grew very heavy, and the tears came. I thought about His death and wounds and pain. I'm not scrupulous at all, but I think God allowed me to feel deeper sorrow at this event yesterday as a gift. I began what I know is going to be a long process of allowing God to love me and letting go of all the things I want. I got an impression, (not a vision/apparition), but just this image Jesus was pouring His precious blood into the tiny little space in my heart that I had just opened to Him.

At this time, when I'm exploring this experience with God and wondering what the source and benefit is, a couple people show up in the sacristy (next to the chapel) to set up things for the evening service. Now, I know that stuff has to be done. Perhaps this was the only time available for them, but it was the hour of mercy on Good Friday. At this time, I'm just thinking there's a couple of Martha's running around in church. It's amazing how easy it is to be judgmental of others when you discover it in yourself.

Anywho, the rest of the day I did an errand and some cleaning at home. I was aware of God's presence...not necessarily peaceful, but weighty. I had planned to work on taxes in the evening, but since God was at the top of my mind all day, decided to go to a neighboring parish for the service. I got there at the end of the gospel. During the homily which didn't have much substance, I read the gospel, and then participated in the rest. While waiting to reverence the cross, I was reading a couple surrendering prayers that I was very present too. I was really present to the rest of the service...didn't fall into the auto-pilot thing too much.

Well, I decided I wanted to go to confession. I had just gone 1 ½ weeks before, but I was wrestling with this “weight” and this intense experience that I needed some healing graces. Now I go to confession pretty often, and I don't have a fear of it. I also know that priests are very busy especially at this time. This evening after the service the 3 priests were hearing the first confessions of all those coming into the church this year at this parish. I found this out by asking the deacon. As one of the priests was walking in, I asked him if he could hear mine after they were done and he said “I guess...”. After they got started I approached a person who was directing people to the appropriate corners and asked if the sponsors were also going to confession and she said no. I asked if it would be ok to go after they were done, and she said she doesn't know if I should because there were some strict orders that only candidates were going that evening. I was disappointed. I can completely respect the situation, but I was disappointed. This also explains this priest's response to me.

Now, things to keep in mind: these priests may have been hearing confessions for hours that day. They've been up in the mornings and had late nights this week, and have another really late one tomorrow with early morning on Sunday. They've been doing penance services all Lent long. I get it- the RCIA sponsors and other Catholics should not be waiting till Good Friday to go to confession. (And I hadn't, either. This desire to go was a new development from the day). Now, if I had persisted and asked one of the priests when it was done, I'm sure they would have honored the request, too.

Here's my one problem with it: What if I was someone who had just decided to come back to church that night for the first time in 15 years? This small experience doesn't detour me, I set a meeting up with a friend tomorrow. I just hope that someone else hasn't gotten turned off by a small oversight like this.

I must end this portion with a toast to my beloved fathers in the church. I love you- and you are awesome. Thank you so much for your service and bringing Christ to the family. God bless you.

So on my way home, the tears start coming again. I get home and start crying..over what, I don't know. It isn't a peaceful or joyful cry, but its not one of pain or self-pity either. I can't seem to describe it. I remember a similar experience on my first awakening, sitting in the church- feeling a weight, feeling God's presence. Maybe he's just giving me a big bear hug so its hard to breathe.

All in all today I've spent about 3 ½ hours in deeper prayer, and the rest of the day with God at the top of my mind. This is more than I've done in the past several years put together I think. I've made efforts with rosaries and things, but haven't really immersed myself into it. I should try this more often.

Lent

Before I start the actual post for today, I wanted to quick recap of Lent. Beginning the weekend after Ash Wednesday, I came down with strep. Fever got up to 105 and I ended up in the ER. This was the sickest I've ever been, and I think I was on the brink of dilusion at times. I could barely move for about 3 days--- taking 3 showers a day and alternating the fever meds to keep it from smoking. I was dizzy for a full 10 days that slowly went away after that. The soda thing went out the window when I was sporting a headache with the fever- I couldn't do caffeine withdrawal on top of being nearly dead.

Once I broke the stride, I didn't try very hard to start it up again. Well, I didn't have ice cream, my absolute favorite, except on a couple Sundays, so that was a success. I'd say the near death experience was a good start in offering some suffering for penance this year.