Holy, Holy, Holy

I almost didn't go to mass this morning. It's cold out, it's Super Bowl Sunday, we slept late, and I didn't wanna go. To tell the truth, one of the main reasons I finally got up, got dressed and drove to town was that I needed a few things from the grocery store anyway.

God blessed my reluctant obedience much more than I deserved. From the opening hymn, "Holy, holy, holy,", to the first reading from Isaiah, to the blessing of throats at the end of the service, I was tuned in more clearly than most Sundays.

The reading from Isaiah, Isaiah's commissioning when he goes into the temple and catches the tail end of God's garments as He fills the temple with His presence, is one of my favorites. The song "Open the Eyes of My Heart" came to my mind, but I didn't remember that was the song, as all I could remember was "high and lifted up...holy, holy, holy. Holy, holy, holy, I want to see you." Then the Gospel reading was from Luke, where Jesus tells Peter and the other apostles to cast their nets into deep waters. It was as if I were hearing this story for the first time. These men were professional fishermen who had been out fishing all night and had not caught a single fish. Now, because Jesus says, they follow his advice and cast again and two boats nearly sink from the bounty? Then the kicker, Jesus tells the fishermen to follow Him and He will make them fishers of men. Never before had I thought why they were so willing to drop their nets and follow. Because they had just witnessed a miracle!

At the end of mass, before dismissal, Father Bernie announced he would be blessing throats in honor of the Feast of St. Blaise. Terry and I attended mass with friends in Indianapolis last year and they blessed throats after dismissal. I was too self-conscious to go forward for the blessing then. Today, without hesitation I joined the congregation as we lined up to go forward to receive the blessing. I fought to keep from crying, thinking of my Grandfather who died of mouth and throat cancer before I was born and my Mom who died of esophageal cancer. Bless my throat against any disease?? ABSOLUTELY!!

Then there was the blessing and humbling I always get when I watch one older man from our church as he walks forward for communion (and today, for the throat blessing, too). The man is stooped and his hands and arms quiver wildly with Parkinsons-like tremors. His humility and persistence to receive communion contrast so sharply with my own weak-willed "I don't wanna go out because it's cold" attitude and I am duly chastised.

Lord have mercy.