Continuing her series on the liturgy, AnneMarie Miller reflects on her resolve to focus on God’s time, not hers.
I knelt with my husband and children and glanced around curiously. We were visiting a church to attend Baptisms after Mass, and I was interested to see what Mass at this church was like. While there were many similarities to my own parish, I noted a couple of differences—and one happened during the Communion rite.
As the priest and deacon left the sanctuary, each with a ciborium in hand, people began to file into an empty front pew. They proceeded to use it as a makeshift Communion rail, kneeling silently as the priest and deacon began distributing the Eucharist.
This will take a long time, I inwardly groaned as I glanced at the packed pews and then at my active children. This thought was quickly followed by another: Why would we rush this?
Why would we hurry through this intimate, sacred, life-giving moment: the reception of Our Lord’s flesh and blood?
As people slowly moved through the line, I continued to ponder this question.
Even though I was trying to care for two rowdy boys—and a newborn baby—by myself in the pew, I was grateful that the Communion rite at this church moved at a slower pace than what I was used to. It forced me to quiet my mind and heart and focus on what I was about to do. Receiving the Eucharist is not an afterthought or something to rush through; it’s a pivotal moment in the liturgy, when we join in “partaking of the divine feast” (Mediator Dei #112). This is an incredible reality!
Yet, how often do I zoom through the Communion line, eager to make it back to my pew? How often do I mentally begin gearing up for post-Mass activities instead of focusing on Who I have just received? How often do I inwardly groan at “how long” Mass is (as I wrangle my active children) instead of recognizing what a gift and privilege it is to attend Mass and receive the Eucharist?
It can be hard to peacefully contemplate God when I have a child who won’t pay attention. It’s tough to be prayerfully attentive when a full schedule is distracting me. However, I’m still challenging myself to be fully present and prayerful at Mass, even when it’s difficult. I’m trying to cultivate more of a calm restfulness and recognize that I don’t need to worry about what I’m making for dinner or how much my child is wiggling. I don’t need to worry about “how long” the Communion rite is taking. Instead, I can offer myself to God and focus on His time, not mine.
When we attend Mass, are we rushing through it—or are we letting ourselves rest leisurely in God’s love and the gift of the Eucharist?
Copyright 2022 AnneMarie Miller
Images: copyright 2018 Holy Cross Family Ministries, all rights reserved.
About the Author
AnneMarie Miller
A bibliophile, wife, mother of young children, and lover of the Liturgy, AnneMarie Miller enjoys exploring the manifold—and quirky—ways in which God speaks. She can often be found reading books to her kids, burrowing her toes in the red Oklahoma dirt, or sipping black coffee. Her reflections on Catholicism, literature, and hope can be found on her blog, Sacrifice of Love.
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