Preparing for Mass

My family has taken on a suggestion on how to more fully participate in Sunday Mass.

We’ve been trying (albeit somewhat haphazardly) to go over the Mass readings ahead of time, to ponder what the Holy Spirit might be saying to us individually, using a prayerful method of spiritual reading called lectio divina.

This involves first praying to the Holy Spirit as we seek His inspiration. Someone reads the passage, with each of us listening for a word or phrase that might jump out at us from the passage. Then we are supposed to reflect further on what that word or phrase means in our own individual lives. (I say “supposed to” because typically all this reflecting and pondering gets a lot of disruptions in my family. But we’re working on it.)

And the goal, of course, is to find our personal message from God, in His Word.

I know my children’s prayer lives have to go beyond rote prayers if they are to develop a personal relationship with God. So this endeavor seemed perfect: a way for them to try to still themselves enough to hear His voice and His unique plans and desires for them.

So far, though, our attempts have been far from perfect. Sometimes a few of us will go over the readings hastily, right before Mass. Ideally, we should have been reading them one at a time, over the course of the preceding week.

Other times, we forget entirely, and examine the readings after Mass, on Sunday evenings. And at best we’ve done this with only three or four people, not the entire household. Still working on that.

Last Sunday seemed like another miserable attempt. Again, we had forgotten until Sunday evening. And the gathering ended up just two people – me and a 7-year-old, David, sitting in our van in a high school parking lot.

We had dropped two boys off at a basketball practice when I suddenly remembered our forgotten duty. I pulled out a monthly Magnificat prayer magazine I keep in my purse, which contains Mass readings for each day. And I tried to choose the easiest reading for a first-grader.

David listened as I read the brief passage from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians: “. . . I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need. I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.”

“Stop!” David yelled. “Strengthens.”

That was the word that jumped out for him, and I didn’t read any further. “Okay,” I said. “Why don’t we just memorize that whole line, ‘I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.’?”

 I offered him a reward if he could do it.

We took the sentence apart bit by bit to help: “I can do all things … in Him … Who strengthens me.”

We had errands to do, so we drove off. As we went on, I would say each phrase and David would repeat it after me – over and over again. “I can do all things . . . in Him . . . Who strengthens me.”

By the time we were through with our errands, he pretty much had it memorized, though I still needed to prompt him with the first words. But good enough, I told him. And we splurged with a McDonald’s meal.

I tested him a couple more times this week, and he has mostly remembered the words. His older brother, Paul, overheard us, and I challenged him to create a picture illustrating the quote that would be worthy of framing and hanging on a wall. He came up with ideas immediately.

The most unexpected thing, however, has been how St. Paul’s words have been working on me as they come back to me from time to time. It’s been a busy, overwhelming week, and more than once I’ve thrown an all-out pity party for myself.

But then God reminds me what real problems and suffering look like.

And I remember: “I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.”

Inspired by the Year of Faith, Susan Szalewski began writing weekly columns for us. Although that year is over, we liked them so well that we asked her to keep writing. Thankfully, she said yes. So watch for these on Thursdays and see the Year of Faith Blog here.