At 7:20 am every Sunday, we file through our front door, open and slam car doors, buckle seat belts and ignite cold engines that have been idle overnight.
We drive, two cars in convoy, down the winding road leading out of our village to a nearby town and park near our church before entering, one by one, stopping to dip our fingers in the holy water font. Our feet tread the same path to the same pew, where we kneel together, usually in the same order. We sing similar hymns, pray the same prayers, and receive Jesus at the same point in the Mass as we always do.
And, although some people might yearn for something different, I find all that sameness comforting.
In this uncertain and often weird world, where we never know what to expect next, and life can change in an instant, we can retreat into our churches and find God, always the same. Jesus is there, waiting for us in the tabernacle with His soul-changing grace.
Yesterday, after the 8 am Mass, we went to our local shopping centre as usual. We enjoyed the same food we usually buy. And there’s comfort in that as well. Sunday morning breakfast is an anchor point in our week, where Andy and I gather with a couple of our grown-up kids for a short time.
Unlike Mass, breakfasts change over time, depending on everyone’s needs and schedules. Children come and go. We meet in different places. We sometimes choose different food.
But at the moment, we’re enjoying our Sunday breakfasts in the food court of our shopping centre. Surrounded by a sea of empty tables and chairs, which will fill later in the day, we sip coffee, scoop yoghurt with wooden spoons, and savour melt-in-the-mouth berry-filled Danish pastries while chatting about our weeks past and the ones ahead, sharing our plans, hopes, and dreams.
And afterwards, with satisfied stomachs, we push back our chairs, gather our coffee cups and scrunched up food wrappers, disposing them in the recycling bin before kangaroo-hopping down the travelator, back to our cars parked beneath the shops, grinning and giggling and making other people smile too. (Kangaroo hopping is something new.)
We point blippers at our vehicles, open and slam car doors, buckle seatbelts, ignite still-warm engines and, once again, head out into the uncertain world, strengthened by the love and grace received from our Sunday rituals.
We return home, changed forever by Love Unchanging.
Wow, so comforting! Isn`t it wonderful how simple rituals and routines can give us so much strength and joy? I love that as kids we often went to the same places as a family, visited same people and cooked same tasty meals. There is so much comfort in that. And of course – so much comfort in the Holy Mass and knowing that Jesus is there, no matter how challeging our week may be.
Luana,
Doing the same things over and over again can sound boring, can’t it? Perhaps we sometimes yearn for novelty. But, yes, those simple rituals do bring joy and strength!
And amongst the ‘ordinary’ days of our lives and the liturgical year, we have lots of big feasts to anticipate and celebrate. I hope you had a blessed Corpus Christi!