Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Beautiful Mother Church

My Father pushed me towards you and commanded that I sit at your feet and listen. I did because I loved my Father. He was very good and I loved Him so much. I wanted to obey Him. So I
skeptically sat at your feet, my frowning brows and thin eyes glared at you. I didn't think you knew anything.

You were a stranger. You were a stranger to me, and I thought to the gospel. You didn't know Jesus as well as I did. He was my friend and you were trying to weasel your way between us and I was not happy about that. Like Cinderella's stepmother, you came into my life and I knew you would take my Jesus away from me and make me work for you. You were going to change everything. And I didn't want change. I wanted things to be just as they had been: Jesus and me.

I read your book. No, I am not meaning the Bible. I didn't know that was your book at the time. I mean the Catechism.

It was.... lovely. It made me cry.

You seemed to love Jesus as much as I did. That surprised me. And that book was pretty good. I hadn't thought of things quite that way, but when I compared it to the Bible, you seemed to be a brilliant theologian. Maybe I would give you a chance. Maybe you weren't the evil temptress I had made you out to be.

I began to watch you. Closely. I was waiting for something tricky. You were a deceiver, I had been told. So I was careful not to trust you, yet. But as I studied about your life, as I prayed about you and talked to Christ about you, my heart changed. And I went to your house.

Who was there? Among the people, I saw the poor, the sick, the strange and deformed. People who were heartbroken and struggling. People facing tragedy and suffering. Most did not seem successful. They were humble and quiet. They didn't look around. They were praying and looking at Jesus.

Then I saw you with my Lord. I sat and watched you as you approached the Cross. The songs you sang were mysterious, enchanting, so full of reverence and love. You smelled good with your
incense. You were romantic with your candles. I watched you as you carefully worshipped Him.

I had never worshipped Jesus like you did. I thought that kneeling when I prayed had been reverence. But now, as I watched you, I think you meant what you were doing. All the rites seemed to be filled with love and devotion and reverence.

Who were you? You were a big surprise. The more I knew about you, the more I didn't understand why everyone had treated you so terribly. Maybe things were different than what I had learned. After all, what I knew about you was from those who had left you, rejected you. Maybe they hadn't really listened to your side. This was a bit confusing. But God didn't let me give up on you.

Eventually, Jesus told me to that you were His Bride and that I was to join His family. I obeyed. I wasn't horrified like I expected. I was not as afraid anymore. I had come to know you were really very in love with my Father. And what was the most shocking was that He loved you. He loved you as much as He loved me!

Then one day, awkwardly, I did something. Something brave and a little scary. I placed a scarf around my head and worshipped with you. It felt special and holy. All of a sudden, I felt a part of this intimate and holy worship. I suddenly felt as if I were you. In my own little way, I had become part of the family.

You are my beautiful Mother. And I love you. I know that many people who come and worship as part of your Church do not really love Jesus or at least do not love Him as He is supposed to be loved. You still open your arms out and embrace those who are imperfect. Your beauty is like the incense and the music. It is the soaring ceilings that reach up to heaven. You are a mystery to me--a beautiful mystery. And because Jesus loves you. So do I.

1 comment:

S Maliyekal said...

Lets Pray and share our God-given Faith with our brethren who have not heard of the Lord Jesus and His salvation....!

Remain Blessed ever.