The pandemic changed us in many ways, even the very way we worshipped during COVID-19. Before the lockdown, it was common to witness parishioners coming to church and conglomerate Sunday after Sunday to hear the Word of God read at the pulpit and share in the communion rites.
With the health scare in mind, as with all the other parishes, I would say more than half of our fellow parishioners have opted to participate in the online Masses. Even with the outdoor Masses, still, not a lot showed up. And when the indoor Masses resumed, the shrinking attendance continued for months. It created a rather somber setting, even aggravated by the social distancing in place and the refrain from making the handshake during the sign of peace.
Today although more and more parishioners started to participate in the Masses, still, it was no different. There were more unoccupied pews than there were people inside. I could do a mental count of the people in attendance, which is why during communion, though we were on the left wing of the church, I was encouraged to walk over to the center aisle communion line to receive the consecrated host directly from the hands of the priest. I thought it would be alright.
My husband, however, had a valid reason for sticking to the line designated to our pew. I caved though I really wished he also wanted to do the same thing. “Not a big deal,” I whispered. Although, I really wished I had the liberty to take the longer route to the altar. Somehow I was comforted in the thought that I would still be partaking in the communion.
As usual, as I paced the aisle to the altar, I said my prayers. Often, my gaze is on the image of the crucified Jesus, then to turn my gaze to the eucharistic minister when it is almost my turn to receive the consecrated host.
Now here is the part of this sharing that I thought was remarkable—just as I readied for my turn to receive the consecrated host, I was next in line, the priest walked over to us to give the consecrated host. I could not believe it! I didn’t go to the center aisle line to receive the consecrated host directly from Father Kevin’s hand, but Father Kevin himself came to me! I would scream for joy right then and there, only if I could. But, of course, I had to hold it back. I let my heart do the screaming and singing. In my head, I was doing the “Happy Dance.”
When I looked at Father Kevin, he had that inviting and welcoming smile. I smiled back. You see, each time we get to Mass, it is customary for me to thank God for inviting us to Mass, and the welcoming he extends despite the past week’s offenses. This is why I loved it when he smiled at me. It was just fantastic!
I took Father Kevin’s smile for Jesus' smile. And, if I were to translate that into written words, it would read like this—
Referencing that to Psalm 139:1-5
From the hands of Fr. Kevin, I received Jesus' Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. It was a thoughtful experience. It was divine. I loved every bit of it and thanked God many times that day. I knew I had to write this in my journal. 🙏🏼
Now is your turn to share your stories ingrained with a heavenly touch. Shoot me a message, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Many blessings!
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