Monday, May 28, 2012

I hear a siren outside...it's time to pray...

A siren. Something might be wrong. "Dear Mary, someone might be in trouble. Please pray for them, and for those who are off to help them."

It takes next to no time to ask for these prayers. And yet the power of them is something I'm humbly aware of.

I'm driving past a cemetery. It's time to pray. "Lord, have mercy on them...and on me."

A nanosecond and yet how powerful...who knows what soul will be freed from the bondage of Purgatory and welcomed into His Holy Arms? (And let's not forget: I asked for mercy on myself as well.)

I'm walking, sure-footed, and see many people. There's an old man in a scooter. A young woman on crutches. An elderly lady in a wheel chair. A laughing young lady, obviously pregnant, wheeling a carriage with an infant in it and dragging along a toddler.

Yes, indeed. It's time to pray.

As I walk home I see a policeman, lights whirling in his car, approaching another motorist. A speeder? Something worse?

No matter. It's time to pray.

The thing is, our gracious Lord gives us ample opportunities to pray for one another. Not just "hints" but scenes that scream out "for the Lord's sake please pray for me!"

And I'm grateful for them. Because every time I offer up a prayer for someone else I'm also offering a prayer for myself. After all, prayer is conversation with the Almighty and Who else but the Great Conversationalist Himself will ignore me? Or ignore you?

And so, right now, you  might be reading this, intent on feeding your child, kissing your spouse, calling your mom, waving to your neighbor...it doesn't matter.

Because right here and right now? It's time to pray.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Celebrate the anniversary of my Baptism!

"Going therefore, teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Matthew 28-19

Alleluia! Today is the anniversary of my Baptism according to the rite of the Roman Catholic Church, by Reverend Joseph Zalibert at Saints Cyril & Methodius Church, Detroit, Michigan (the church moved to Sterling Heights, Michigan in 1971). I thank my parents, Leo James Kelly and Maria Victoria Ulanowicz Kelly, my godparents, Vincent and Angelina DuRocher, and most of all, my God Who claimed me for His own.

It is my great joy to renew the vows made by my parents and godparents on my behalf!

I reject Satan, and all his works, and all his empty promises.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, Who was born of the Virgin Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting.

Amen!

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

Daily Mass: Confessions of a spoiled brat

I am blessed—and I wish I'd realize this more—to be able to participate in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass on a daily basis...have been since the mid-1980's.

This privilege is something I've taken for granted, as easily as a child takes for granted that she'll be fed by her parents.

And, like that same child? I've been complaining. Not that the food isn't good. No, never that. Receiving the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus Christ daily? It just doesn't get any better.

Still, I do complain.

Mostly about the priest celebrants. You know these guys...they gave up their lives in order to serve Christ and His people. I pray for them every day.

Yet still, I complain.

Publicly! Mostly about what I consider the "ad libbing" on the part of the priests. Oh, sheesh, a parenthetical comment is creeping up on me here...

(Okay I can't resist...from today's Mass I give you: "...with you and the Holy Spirit, live and LOVE forever and ever. Amen." Father? There's nothing wrong with the word "reign")

I'm sorry. Actually this, or rather the snitty irritation it aroused it me — forget that, the truth is I allowed  the snitty irritation in myself — got me thinking.

"Kelly? You thought???"

Okay, enough of that. Yes, I did indeed think!

Mostly, I thought of the people who don't have the incredibly blessed luxury of being able to participate in the daily celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. I recalled being jarred by a Facebook post from my friend Colleen Hammond, for example, who wrote: "Oh, how I wish I could go to Mass every day!" And I recalled how, years ago now, by friend Lisa Graas, being disabled, was often unable to attend Mass on Sundays, never mind weekdays.

And my mind became unbearably filled with thoughts of folks—Catholic, Jesus-in-the-Eucharist adoring folks—who have been barred by any sorts of things: government, illness, lack of priests, whatever—from celebrating the incredible Sacrifice of Calvary offered bloodlessly but no less live and in Person...that Sacrifice that redeemed us, set us free, and is repeated endlessly, every day, world without end.

And I was, and remain, truly humbled.

I—there's that word again, "I"—need to remember that, through no merit of my own, God has given me the opportunity to, every day, embrace Him in what's the most precious gift in the world: The Mass. And, not incidentally, pray that everyone, the world over, be given the same opportunity.

No doubt, God willing, I'll still point out irregularities some priests insist on practicing when they, too, have been given a gift without compare.

But, please God, with every wince I experience, during the Mass, remind me to pray for those who haven't even the luxury of wincing.

Amen.