Fall on the Altar with Grace

"May those who sow in tears 

reap with shouts of joy!

He that goes forth weeping, 

bearing the seed for sowing, 

shall come home with shouts of joy, 

bringing his sheaves with him." 

- Psalm 126

My BFF Jil conducted mass today

at Saint John's Lutheran Church in Hoboken while their pastor was away on family business.

The pianist was also called away on family business so we recited the hymns instead, but when it came to the Communion Hymn I asked Jil if we could sing it since everyone knew the melody.
It was 'Amazing Grace'.
I cried.
  

Her homily was about Jesus as a high priest and miracle worker. She included a bit of a rant about a film called 'The Buddha' wherein a woman said that she saw miracles in ordinary things like a good cup of coffee. 

Jil held up a blue and white ceramic mug to demonstrate. 

"This is a miracle?" she asked, holding it aloft, then smashed the cup onto the wooden church floor, scattering pieces of mug around the pulpit.

"That's our miracle!" she said pointing to the crucifix, the consecrated host and the precious blood waiting on the altar. It was an effective demonstration.

Are the things of this world a miracle?
I think so. They're miracles in that they exist by God's grace and eternally vibrating Word that sustains all creation, but I understand Jil's point. It is very different to appreciate moments, and coffees, and created things and quite another thing entirely to appreciate the Christian miracle of Salvation and Jesus' sacrifice for humanity.

The Gospel reading today was about Bartemaeus', the blind man at the side of the road, who cried out to Jesus Son of David for help. Jesus asked him, "What do you want me to do for you?" The blind man asked for sight. A miracle of healing followed and the man could see.

I am the recipient of healing. My faith and hard work gave me my legs back after years of being crippled by disfiguring arthritis. I know what it feels like to be broken. I know what it feels like to slowly come back together the way Humpty Dumpty couldn't.

When Jil broke that cup on the altar today it occurred to me that a miracle would be putting the cup back together stronger than before, but God only does that with people, not cups. Cups can't have faith. We can.

Mass ended. Jil and the altar servers cleaned up the church while I fussed and took pictures.

Jil swept up the remains of the miracle cup.

As I was walking across the altar I tripped on the rug.
It was a strange mini-miracle.
One moment I was on my feet holding my beloved Canon Rebel.
The next moment I was down.
I didn't even feel the fall.
There was no moment of whoaaaaaa as I went down.
It was an instantaneous transition from upright to down on my left knee, arms extended in front of me.
My camera landed gently on the rug, no damage.

Everyone was concerned. I was embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to make a fuss. I was fine.
I laughed nervously as I uprighted myself.
I wasn't hurt in any way, just startled.

I'm a resilient little thang, sturdy and durable.
I was grateful to be completely unharmed.

Here's what surprised me: falling was fun.
No lie.
I enjoyed falling and not getting hurt.
I got a little adrenaline kick from it.
I got to feel the joy of hitting the floor the way a little kid does when they inadvertently fall while they're playing, then get back up and go right back to playing as if nothing happened.
I felt young and irrepressible.
Bouncy.

I didn't break like a cup.
I bounced like a kid.

It's a full 12 hours later. No injuries have popped up.
I'm truly just fine.

I am full of miracle.
...
..
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