Holy Hours

Went to noon Mass at St. Effects. I sat up more towards the front and could make out most of the sermon. So far the acoustics have been terrible in every church we've visited. What did priests do before they had microphones?

I felt guilty about leaving Mac alone at the house but going to Church keeps me strong. He said it was fine. He knows how I am. He had hip surgery a few days ago. Now he's home recuperating. I wonder what the doctors would say if they could see Mac covered in cats as he lays on his bed.

As a distraction I told him about a Benedictine monastery I found in California. Based on what I've found on the Web, I'm drawn to the Benedictines more than the Franciscans, but I'm not sure why.

The Benedictines go way back and were founded before there were religious orders. They seem very independent to me.

You can join a monastery as a layperson. There's a Benedictine monastery on the West side of Phoenix that we can visit. You don't live there, you're not a monk, but as a layperson you're associated with the particular monastery you choose. So you want to pick the right monastery.

This morning I got up at 4 AM and started chores, which now includes helping Mac, of course. I drove to the pharmacy and picked up his meds, including painkiller. His leg aches pretty bad, understandably. It's an alarming shade of eggplant.

Tuesday I went to Holy Hour at St. Gee. This time the deacon showed up. He was supposed to be there last Tuesday but no in casa. Mac and I and a few stalwart Mexicans huddled outside church in the freezing cold for 15 minutes or so. (This was several days before Mac fell and broke his hip in the backyard.) Finally we disbanded and waved each other good night.

This week I had to go to Holy Hour by myself because Mac was in the hospital with his broken hip. I wondered if at the beginning of this service the deacon explained why he was missing last week? Probably no need as regular parishioners are probably already in the know. Deacons can be married so maybe he had family issues.

There were considerable tears this particular night. One of the men, even. Sometimes I cry, too. I can't help it. Deacon puts together a beautiful Holy Hour. It's actually closer to two hours. He plays Gregorian chant for the first hour, then he plays something traditional. This time he had a violin rendition of Amazing Grace that was gorgeous.

At the Benediction they sing "Bendito, Bendito", a hymn that is about 400 years old. It feels like you are being transported through time and space. Everyone prays to the Real Presence in the Eucharist with a fervor I have never experienced in a church before.

There is a wooden kneeler right in front of the monstrance that holds the Eucharist. People who have special intentions go and kneel there and often cry, even sob. I admire this but I am way too shy.

I had never much thought about the Real Presence until recently. The idea that you could just sit in silence and visit with Jesus, that struck me as brilliant. You could talk to Him, tell Him about your week, ask for help, express gratitude, or just clear your mind.