Majesty

JMJ. I was taking a shower the other day. (I try to do this once a week or so whether I need one or not.) In the course of my ablutions I was struck by the over-powering majesty of the Catholic Church. It was one of those little pecks on the cheek I've talked about before and is God's way of saying, "I know it's January and dismal as all get-out outside, but I thought I'd bring a little ray of sunshine into your heart."

I need them from time to time and I'm sure that you do, too, imaginary reader. There is something immensely awesome when one considers that a unique movement was set in motion over 2,000 years ago, founded on a bunch of rural yokels of no great intellectual accomplishments, whose one saving grace was their belief in the deity of this strange Man from Galilee.

It's de rigeur nowadays to disparage the Catholic Church, to question her teachings, to deplore the abuses which have come to light in the last decade but which just seems to keep plugging along in spite of it all. If there is not something majestic in this and not just a little miraculous, I don't know what it would be. In the face of death, persecution, and suffering the Church grew by leaps and bounds with only the Divine Promise of an eternity of joy if we would but repent and believe.

Upon contemplation of that sweeping vista I was struck by the tragedy that so many turn their backs on His offer. Go figure.