"A Little Peck on the Cheek"

JMJ. I may have mentioned this before and if I have, please overlook my poor memory, but my friend Charlie has a concept he calls God's little peck on the cheek. I don't know if he thought it up all by himself but it refers to the fact that one's prayer life is not all sweetness and light. It is full of long periods of dryness when it seems that we're just praying to a deaf wall. We're not, of course, but it's oftentimes hard to keep this in mind. God DOES always hears prayers even if He doesn't always act on them or act on them the way we know He should.

What He DOES do is give us a little peck, just to let us know that He's there watching out for us and listening to us intently. I got one of these on the last First Friday at Tilma, my hang-out away from home. I was sitting talking to Jan Marie, the owner, when who should walk throught the door but my favourite pastor, Fr. B. And he had a bourse around his neck signifying that he bore the Blessed Sacrament. He owned that he was distributing Holy Communion to his parish's shut-ins for their First Friday devotion. (Now I ask you--how many priests are concerned with this devotion nowadays and of those, how many would personally deliver Communion? You see why he's my favourite priest.)

Anyway. I have often doubted my true acceptance and awareness of Christ's presence in the Blessed Sacrament. I mean I accept it and I profess it, but I'm not always sure if I've internalised it. Jan and I continued our conversation after greeting our Lord and Fr. B. and it was then I got my little peck on the cheek--I realised that the Person Jan and I were talking about was truly in our midst, listening to our conversation and hopefully approving what was said. It was an absolutely awesome feeling and a peck that I will always cherish. One more self-doubt expunged. Thanks, Lord.

"Misplaced Priorities"

JMJ. A lot of things set my teeth on edge; nowadays more so than ever for some reason. One of the things that's guaranteed to make me see red is the plethora of bumper stickers, ribbon loops, etc. that say "God Bless America" on them. Now I know that these folks are one, being patriotic, and two, acknowledging a belief in God. But they obviously aren't thinking straight. I ask you--why should He? Why should God bless America? What have we done lately, like in the last fifty years or so, to bless Him, to thank Him for His many blessings, to obey Him?

The answer, of course, is "nothing." Or at best, very little. We've cast Him out of our schools, He's no longer welcome around the dinner table, no longer welcome in polite conversation, or politics. We abort the little ones who were to come unto Him, we destroy fetuses in the name of science, we gas His chosen people in concentration camps, we assert that two men or two women constitute a "married couple," and that it's okay to remove the feeding tubes and iv's from our elderly or infirm whom we no longer value as human beings. And we expect Him to BLESS us?

Our political candidates this election year said it was all about the economy or all about jobs, or all about racial respect. It wasn't and it never was. It was all about the dignity and worth of the Culture of Life but it looks like the culture of death is going to come out on top again. God save America 'cause we sure can't do it ourselves!

"Another One For the Whore of Babylon"

JMJ. That's the favourite epithet for the fundamentalist: "the Catholic church is the Whore of Babylon!" Which neatly brings me to today's topic. If the Church is the Whore of Babylon, why in heaven's name has she produced so many saints? Good question, isn't it? I hadn't thunk of it until I listened to a CD made by (I think) Peter Kreeft. Even the biggest haters of the Church wouldn't think of disparaging St. Augustine or St. Francis or Bl. Mother Teresa.

Well, that's a problem for them to stew over. I've found another. Sunday's gospel reading spot-lit one I hadn't considered before...Zacchaeus. I was just amazed, sitting there in the pew listening to our Fr. Michael talk about the conversion of a notorious sinner. For Zacchaeus was a hugely wealthy tax collector. Now I am not hugely wealthy but I am a poor sinner and I was even worse prior to my conversion. But in both our cases, Zacchaeus' and mine, we could not resist the work of the Holy Ghost.

Zacchaeus was prompted to climb a tree, the better to see this Jesus he'd heard so much about. And I, I was inspired to walk into a little Catholic religious goods store in Berea called "Tilma." And our lives changed. All it took was a little opening, you see. Christ and the Blessed Mother took it from there. Zacchaeus climbed down from the sycamore tree a changed man. I went home clutching a copy of Archbishop Sheen's autobiography a changing man. That's the difference between Zacchaeus and me--becoming a saint is going to take me so much longer (if, by the Grace of God I ever make it at all.) Simon of Cyrene helped Christ carry His cross to Calvary, Zacchaeus gave half of his vast wealth to the poor and paid recompense fourfold for his sins. While I walk forward toward my sanctification looking back all the while at Egypt. All ye holy angels and saints, please pray for me.