healing mass

Last evening I attended the healing mass

at St. Genevieve with Alan Ames.

I had been looking forward to it for some time.

Yet after last weeks healing mass that some

of my work friends attended, I was chickening out.

Last week the spoke of Father Mannings'

healing mass and how some "went out"

and others were talking in tongues.

This scared me....

Being raised as a little Catholic girl in Golden Meadow,

people who spoke in "tongues" and "went out"

were for those religions you see on TV.

For those that costed you big bucks to attend.

I had no faith in these types of religions.

Heck, it wasn't until I was an adult with children that

I ever understood what a charismatic group was.

Even then, these groups and this "tongue" stuff scared me.

I stayed away. My momma never taught me this about God.

So after last week I tell my work friends that I am changing

my mind, that I am scared of that stuff.

However at least 5 of them tell me I should go.

Others tell me they are going to be there.

Until the last minute I kept going back and forth with my decision.

Yet I knew if I went I was not really going for myself.

I was going for my friend Gina, who was recently

diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease.

I was going for my friend, John who was even

newly diagnosed with cancer.

I get home and tell HOBL that I am not going.

I sit on my recliner and settle with my trusty old computer

who never scares me with such nonsense as "tongues"

I can not enjoy myself, I am compelled to go to this healing mass.

I get up, get ready and head out.

There are my school friends, there are other friends.

I sit letting some of them know that I am still not comfortable

being there. First though, there will be just a church service.

Well, I am definitely comfortable with this,

I love the Catholic mass.

Just at the end of mass, a packed church where I am

not sitting in my "normal spot"

There is a commotion in the aisle right where I am sitting.

I quickly note a severely handicapped adult and his

parents making their way down the aisle

as this young adult tumbles to the ground right there

in front of where I am sitting.

I rush out into the aisle to help his father assist him.

He doesn't seem to be hurt but the whole mass stops

to watch us. We determine that his walking device,

whether it was a walker or wheelchair has broken and

it is not possible to be used.

I am now faced with a decision that I didn't even think about

for one minute. I will have to assist this father walk

his handicapped son all the way to the front of church

so he can receive the gift of healing.

I feel the eyes of the church watching me.

I get one one side, his father on the other

and we go up the aisle to one of the front pews.

I then turn around and walk back to my place in church.

I get my song book out and just start singing where

everyone else is. Yet my eyes are burning with tears.

My job there is done, I now know why I was there.

It was not just for friends who are suffering medical diagnosis.

It was not for my own healing.

It was because one of God's children needed just a little help

making it to the place he needed to be.

"what you do for the least of your brothers you do for me"

I stay for Ames' talk and I stay for the group healing

but then I leave with a happy heart.

My job there was done.