I have raced to Mass like a lunatic the past couple of days. Okay, first of all, I was running a tad late both days; however, I found myself zooming along for another reason: I can’t wait to get to church. In less than three weeks, it has come to feel completely natural to attend Mass during the week and on Saturday.
One of the reasons that I like it so much is because it is something that is freely done. In other words, it’s not a Sunday obligation kind of thing; it’s an any-day-of-the-week activity that feels much freer. I like the atmosphere at weekday services, whether it’s at the cathedral or another church. I like the quiet.
Part of me has wondered if it is just the silence that makes me happy. You know, maybe if I spent my lunchtime inside the Cleveland Public Library I’d feel exactly the same. But I don’t think so. As much as I love libraries, I’ve never felt spiritually moved inside one.
When I’m in a church, I feel calm and armed for the battle that is life. I can see why some people dedicate their lives to prayer. All day, you’re talking to the Big Guy and praying for people’s special intentions and your own intentions. Your time is taken up by a big task, but you’re removed from the outside world.
For those of us who live in the outside world, it’s different. The 45 minutes or so that I spend in church each day has made me feel connected and focused. Then reality hits me in the face. Work. Kids. Pets. Husband. Elderly parent. How do I scoop up that peace I feel inside the church and carry it with me when I’m outside?
You were expecting an answer? I don’t have one just yet. Like everything else in life, this is a work in progress.