Can't Be Underestimated

God's mercy and the graces He extends to us at Mass, can never be underestimated -- or even comprehended.

I received one such grace Wednesday, when I went to a lunch-hour Mass in a small chapel in Omaha.

The lector, still wearing her coat, walked up to the altar and read the first reading for day. It was the story of Jonah in Nineveh telling the residents that their city will be destroyed in 40 days, and how the people, their king and even their animals repented, fasting and wearing sackcloth. Their actions moved God, and the city was not destroyed.

Then the lector began the Responsorial Psalm: "A heart contrite . . ." But then her voice changed and she had to pause.

She was weeping.

She struggled through the line and somehow finished, and the bewildered people in the pews replied back: "A heart contrite and humbled, O God, You will not spurn."

The lector returned to the Psalm: "Have mercy on me, O God . . ." But again her voice broke up and she started crying again. The priest rose from his presider chair, walked to the ambo and put an arm around the woman's shoulder, gently excusing her from the reading. He took over Psalm 51 from there: "Have mercy on me, O God, in Your goodness; in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense . . ."

I don't know why the lector cried, but it struck me that she was moved to tears while reading words of repentance.

And the thought of her tears stayed with me through Mass. In the homily, the priest talked about God's infinite, incomprehensible mercy that even extends to the cross. . . and the only thing we need to receive it is a repentant heart, a sorrow for our sins. Like the Psalm said: "A heart contrite and humbled, O God, You will not spurn."

It was also at Mass that I realized my lack of tears, my lack of repentance this Lent. I'm doing things to observe Lent, but is my heart in the right place?

I need God's mercy and a heart contrite and humbled enough to receive it. I need to weep for the way I offend Him.

"Thoroughly wash me from my guilt

and of my sin cleanse me.

"A clean heart create for me, O God,

and a steadfast spirit renew within me."

-- Psalm 51

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.

Let Me See Your Kindness, O Lord

Last night after St. Columbkille's wonderful kindergarten Christmas program, my kindergartener, David, still wanted to sing.

He had just finished a whole lineup of Christmas songs with his friends, but strangely, on our way home, from the middle row of our family's van, I heard this: "Let us see Your kindness, O Lo-ord . . ."

I remembered what he was singing, from a responsorial Psalm at Mass. Maybe David sang it that morning at a school Mass.

"Let us see Your kindness, O Lo-ord," he sang over and over, because that's all he remembered of the song. I couldn't remember the rest of the response either. So David chanted the line as I drove.

Eventually he tired of it and started making up his own music and lyrics, and I heard him sing these sweet words: "Come into my heart, Jesus, come."

David's songs seemed so perfect for that moment, just a week before Christmas. As he sang his invitation for Jesus again and again, and sprinkled some other prayers into his song, I said my own prayer. It's one I pray when I want to receive Jesus in holy Communion but am not able to be physically present at Mass. Any invitation for Christ would do for a spiritual communion, but I like this prayer:

"Jesus, Jesus, come into my heart. Make it meek and humble like Thy Sacred Heart. Come, Beloved Jesus, come."

After we got home, "Let us see Your kindness, O Lo-ord . . ." became stuck in my head. Usually it's annoying to have a song do that, but when it's a prayer, I figure it's the Holy Spirit at work. That line was still ringing in my head this morning, and the rest of the response came to me, at least the way I remembered it: "Let us see Your kindness, O Lord. Grant us Your salvation, O God."

I gave David the additional line, and he walked away singing the response. Now we'll both be singing those two lines in our heads, over and over, all day long. So as I prepare for Christmas, and the Reconciliation Service tonight at church, I'll be singing: "Let us see Your kindness, O Lo-ord. Grant us Your salvation, O God."

And after the service -- after being forgiven and reconciled by God --I can joyfully await Christmas. I will sing and pray like David -- who seems to take after his namesake, King David, the Psalm writer and singer.

David and I will pray with the rest of our family: "Come, Beloved Jesus, come!"

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.