Who is that Pharisee in the mirror?

Since we had a family event today, I went to the 8 am mass at Grace church for the first time. It is a quiet service... no music or hymns. We met in the little side chapel. The service was kind of nice, I thought. We had a guest preacher who was very animated. (Maybe too much so for an early service, LOL.) He was talking about the genocide in Rwanda and the war in Darfur. He was encouraging us, as the body of Christ, to take healing the world seriously as a personal mission, whether in the third world or on the streets of Providence.

I took communion, and even with a nasty cold, took the chalice. As I walked back to my pew, I told myself I should have done it by intinction (dipping the host in the chalice) so I didn't get everyone sick.

When I sat in the pew, I noticed a homeless man coming back from the rail and actually thought to myself

I am glad I went before him.

For a fleeting moment, I was relieved that I didn't have to share a cup with the homeless guy.

That is appalling on so many levels. I, who had a virus that I was more than willing to share with everyone. I, who believe the chalice contains the blood of Christ.

Who is this person, I wonder, who is suddenly overtaken by fear? What exactly am I afraid of, anyway? Cooties? Am I in kindergarten?

Every now and then God shines a light into the darkness of my soul. I am so grateful when he does it. It is an act of love, I think, for him to bring me face to face with my weakness. It reminds me how much I need his redeeming love.

I think this will be going on my list for confession.


Beloved,

I ask for your mercy. I thank you for your Love.