Lesson #3 from the Catholic Church: We all need a holy place
Here I continue to share what I've been learning in my visits to my local Catholic church. Root realization #3: We can be alone with God, and not be struck down from heaven!
Upon my first visit to my local Catholic Church, my friend introduced me to the Adoration Chapel — it’s a beautiful and warm little chapel off to the side that has a “monstrance” (this is a vessel that holds the consecrated communion elements [viewed as the actual presence of Jesus] that are exposed for worship).
(Note: I desperately wanted to take a picture because it was so beautiful, but I thought that to be in bad taste. Therefore, here is a picture I found online that mirrors a bit of what I saw. This is from wikipedia.):
The Adoration Chapel is everything I imagine a church — the “holiest place on earth” to be. It’s small, warm, bright, and peaceful. Everything and everyone in it is quiet except for the light whoosh of the heater. Perhaps ten people can be in the Adoration Chapel at once, and you will find people adoring God in a variety of (quiet) ways. Upon only my third visit, a woman fell prostrate on the ground in adoration! (After about ten minutes I felt the need to check on her as I was slightly concerned that she had died!)
In a world that is noisy, busy, and complicated, this place is a refuge and solace (and for an extroverted Enneagram 7, the attraction of a place like this is even more perplexing!).
Every day I attend Catholic Mass I spend an extra 15 minutes or so in the Adoration Chapel — sitting, praying, and hoping.
One Saturday, after the 5PM Catholic mass, I found myself alone in the Chapel with only one other person. Five minutes into praying, the thought dawned on me: What if this man leaves and I am left alone with this actual presence of Christ?
Now although I grew up Catholic, I fall into the “symbolic” camp when it comes to my beliefs of what happens during the communion time. Catholics believe the bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Christ. Enough of the Adoration Chapel reminds me of what it would be like to be in the presence of God that as soon as I considered this man leaving, I began to panic. What if I am struck down from heaven when he leaves?
Within two minutes, I was in full panic mode with the possibility of what would happen with this “unholy trinity” that I perceived: me, these transformed elements, and a dark night.
Within two minutes, I was in full panic mode with the possibility of what would happen with this “unholy trinity” that I perceived: me, these transformed elements, and a dark night.
And then the man got up and walked out the door.
I started to cry. Not little tears — these were sobs that only emerge from a deep place. I repented for anything I had done wrong and asked God to be kind to me.
I am not sure how much time passed as I sat with my head bowed, desperately hoping God would find something good within me that was worth sparing.
Well, of course He didn’t strike me down because I am writing this. In fact, the opposite happened: He reminded me that He loved me.
“Come now, let us settle the matter,”
says the Lord.
“Though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
they shall be like wool.” (Isaiah 1:18)
(This image was taken from Bible.com.)
This was the verse my husband put on our kitchen whiteboard the previous week. I like that it feels like a conversation. And I really like that it reminds us that we may see ourselves as broken, unlovable, and sinful (or whatever negative term we choose to use), but that God sees us as totally different. More on this next time in Lesson #4 from the Catholic Church: I can’t find that sin anymore!
When it was time for me to leave the Adoration Chapel that night, the entire church was dark and locked. But the Adoration Chapel is open 24/7 because, well, God never sleeps or slumbers.
I stood up and walked over to close the doors that protect the area in the wall where the monstrance is held (because that’s what you should do if no one else is in the chapel). I stared at it up close for about five minutes.
It is, I thought, simply beautiful.
And I closed the doors gently and walked out.
Wandering friend, all of us need a holy place — a place where God can meet us and remind that we are loved, forgiven, and important. Too often, we either don’t have this place or we are scared to enter it. Can I encourage you to find this place of peace and quiet, where you can pour your heart out to Him? It need not be an Adoration Chapel (though if you live near Wheaton, IL, where I live, I’d love to take you to this one sometime!).
When we have been hurt by the church or the world, we can forget that Jesus is beautiful. How sad this is. My heart breaks if you no longer see Jesus as different than the pains and bruises inflicted on you by the world. He is not the wound — He is the healer.
More on that next time!
Much love to you,
💚 Laurie