Jesus gave me a lovely grace the other day in the form of a memory. I think he wanted some more thanks.
A while back I had to leave my church. I found another church, but the pastor there went on vacation just as I arrived, so I had to hop around for daily Masses for two weeks. All of those churches locked after Mass, so I couldn’t spent my wonted time in adoration. That on top of the reasons I had to leave felt like God had
completely rejected me.
Finally I went to Mass at a church with an adoration chapel, screwed up my courage, walked back to the sacristy after Mass, explained my situation with way too much information because I was so scared to be within twenty feet of a priest, and asked for the code to the chapel. Just for one week, until the new church opened again. Before I had even made it to asking the question, the priest was already reaching for a pen and writing the code. When I finished talking he handed it to me and said, “Use it as long as you want. We like it when people pray.” I learned a few minutes later that the chapel was located in a large building full of tastefully-appointed rooms (and a commercial kitchen) that weren’t locked up. The priest had just handed me a key to all of it. Even though he didn’t know me from a rock!
My family has been at that parish for over two years now. The priest also turned out to be a wonderful confessor and spiritual advisor. Faults and failings? Oh, absolutely.
Alter Christus? Yes, yes, yes.
I’ve found a simple “thank you” can go a long way, and that an encouraging note can be appreciated. Prayer, of course. If one engages in fasting as a spiritual practice, offering it for his benefit is a kind thing to do. (And whatever you do, never hide the cookies from the priest!)
There will never be enough thanks for me to give, no, never.
Agreed.
