Jesus Caritas

Our tiny chapel, Hungary

I sit in the chapel in very imperfect recollection distracted much more by my own inner noise than by the outer street sounds.  I sit before the mystery of Jesus in the Eucharist and try to be still, to let the space inside open just a little more.  I try to let myself be drawn into the mystery of a God who took flesh in Jesus, who died and who beat death.

One of my sisters likens the time spent in 'adoration' to the instant replay of a scene that needs more time than the Mass can give it to try to take it in.  How many times have we seen significant images captured forever on film and commented about over and over, be it the horrors of war, national tragedy or the exuberance of sports?  In these freeze-frames we relive the moments of pain or joy.  We remember where we were and with whom.  Maybe that is a bit what 'adoration' is like, the savoring of the sweetness of something tasted together.  “And didn’t we have a good time?” or as the disciples of Emmaus put it, 'Were not our hearts burning within us?'