Telling God, "I love you."

Just as a father never tires of hearing their child say, "I love you," a child also never tires of hearing their father say, "I love you"...

.....unless the child is in front of their friends and cares more about what they think about them.

Avoidance

Just like I think that a lot of Protestants shy away from Catholic-y things like Mary, I also think that a lot of Catholics shy away from Protestant-ish things like direct invitations to take faith seriously.

People Pleasing Penance

I have joined the ranks of those who bring little children to Mass.  From outside the club, it was easy to judge and cherry-pick what I would and wouldn't do with my children.  But to be fair, I could still acknowledge that it was a tough assignment.  Now that I'm in the club, I could sum it up by saying that suddenly, going to Mass has become a whole lot more adventurous.  Big surprise.

Taking an infant to Mass is a total penance for a people-pleaser (read: most Asian people).  The debilitating fear is being any kind of a distraction to other people.  And I mean, any kind.  I guess I never realized it, but it's easy to expect to fade into the crowd at Mass and not want to draw attention to myself.  Atheistically, it is group think and blindly following rituals, but hope-fully, it's because the attention should be on Jesus at the altar.  Regardless, bringing an infant to Mass now means having to guard against the doubly-whammy of worrying about what other people are thinking of us as parents as well as disturbing others' worship experience.  Even if my daughter isn't crying or making her baby velociraptor noises, it's easy to live in constant fear that she is about to.  It makes a lot of sense then, to see why many families with young children sit in the back of the church. 

The first time we brought our daughter to Mass, during communion, these thoughts went into overdrive.  Our baby is still small enough that we leave her in her carrier as long as we can.  However, as the usher came closer and closer to our pew, my mind began to be like: Should we take her up?  The carrier is unwieldy and not that easy to carry despite the name.  It also takes up a lot more space than people usually take in a two-person wide communion line.  People might stare!  And God knows that we're not rolling up to the front in the snap 'n go.  So should we leave her at our seats?  Darn you, making-the-decision-to-sit-in-the-back-so-as-to-not-disturb-other-people!  Because if we leave her here, it's a long way to the front of the communion line and then all the way back.  People are gonna judge the heck out of us while they should be hanging with Jesus because we left our baby alone for 45 seconds.  Either that or an overzealous auntie is gonna swoop in there and steal a cuddle.

Thankfully, cooler heads prevailed and soon after I thought, "F that!"

The last thought reminded me that communion really was about spending time with Jesus and of course I would want my baby girl to go up and to receive a blessing.  If Blind Bartimaeus can be socially awkward to meet Jesus then I could too!  I decided that I wanted my daughter to have an experience of Mass that is "in your face" and not tucked away to the back of the church only to realize that at some certain age when they're older I have to play catch up with teaching her what Mass is really all about.  After all, at the end of my life, I'd rather have tried to unapologetically bring her to the feet of Jesus than circling around worrying more about what people thought of me.  Like I said, penance?

So there I was, walking down the center aisle like this:



Just kidding.

Lyric of the Moment 9

"What am I s'posed to do when the club lights come on? /
It's easy to be Puff, but it's harder to be Sean /
What if the twins ask why I ain't marry they mom? /
How do I respond?"

         ~ P.Diddy, Coming Home

Accidental Properties of Blood

I've always thought it interesting that the concept of bread and wine transubstantiating into the actual Body and Blood of Christ means that the accidents of the bread and wine still maintained all of their physical characteristics.

What that means is that if you drink enough of the Blood of Christ, you can get drunk!  That's way more exciting than, if you eat enough of the Body of Christ, you'll get....full.  Trust me, it's highly amusing to me when the wine is overestimated by the sacristan and the Chinese Eucharistic minister has to finish it all after communion and ends up with a healthy Asian glow.

This guy, but more holy.  And with a chalice.

  (If you think this is bad, check out the wikipedia article on it)

By extension, I've always thought that it would be way more cool if through the miracle of the consecration you could drink as much of the Blood of Christ and not feel any of the physical affects of alcohol.  "Well, how do you explain that?" I would smugly tell my non-believing homies.

But alas, God's ways are not my ways and in this case, God's way is way more humble and meek, requiring faith of the believer.

This is why the third line from the Anima Christi prayer extra stood out to me today.

Soul of Christ, sanctify me,
Body of Christ, save me,
Blood of Christ, inebriate me,
Water from Christ's side, wash me,
Passion of Christ, strengthen me…

I'm glad that it's been embraced for at least 700 years (from when the prayer was first written).  Oh, to be intoxicated by Jesus.

Brought to you by what I like to call "Holy Moments on the Crapper"

You can't Google God

"Great is the LORD, and highly to be praised / And His greatness is unsearchable."

          ~ Psalm 145:3 (NASB)