An Easter thought...

Forty plus days have passed since Ash Wednesday, and my journey of ups and downs (but mostly riding in the middle) has not really ended, but quietly flowed into a journey within The Journey, which we call the Easter Season. I wish I had the skills to properly convey even a small fraction of the joys and the frustrations that I've met along the road called Lent, but I don't and I won't try. But there were some moments that will stay with me for a while; the tenderness of our older Friar, Father J,as he washed the feet of the woman sitting next to me. That act of humility, right in the middle of the Gospel, brought my imagination back 2,000+years to when Our Lord gave this gift to his 12. My wife, for the first time had her feet washed and said it was simply beautiful, something she'll never forget. "You have to sign up for it next year," she said. And I will.
On Friday H and I were with the choir, so we had to go downstairs to Kiss the Wood. This year I felt such tremendous sorrow as I walked the length of the center aisle to reach it and when I went to kiss the wood I just wanted to hold it, to hug it. Our small cross seemed so large, so real! It was another what-just- happened-to-me moment, one of a few that occurred in these last few days. During the Holiest of Days one just has to be aware and open to the graces that God bestows on us at all times. The reality of our faith shone forth even in the dark hours of Holy Thursday and Good Friday, and our faith holds us together during the Long Day, Holy Saturday. We had one young man finish the RCIA course culminating in his baptism at the Vigil Mass and when it was time for our Priest to pray over him he called the other three Friars, all Priests, to come down and pray with him. What a beautiful sight, our four Franciscans, a single arm from each held with hand in prayer position, giving blessings to a new-born soul! Tears welled and ran freely from my eyes, and my heart was lost.
One more moment to share: Easter Morning as Lector I had the honer of reading that tremendous First Reading, but I didn't do it justice. I wanted so much for my voice to really carry the story to the hearts of all our parishioners, but in the end, I think I failed. I don't know. Too much pressure, I guess, put on by myself. Anyway, right after Mass I went over to pray in front of the Tabernacle for a few minutes and was joined by Helen, who had Cantered. As usual, within moments of the last notes ringing from the organ the church erupted in loud voices, laughter and general chaos. It happens after every Mass, like the ending of a sporting event. We try to block it out, but it's nearly impossible. Maybe because it was Easter and Our Lord was back in the Tabernacle, but as I gazed upon the golden resting place something happened that has never happened to me before. As I gazed I could feel, with 100% certainty, Our Savior radiating His love out to me, to us, Helen and I as we said our prayers of thanksgiving for the Eucharist. I could of knelt there forever, taking in His Love...