'And I Will Give You Rest'

'Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened,

and I will give you rest.' ~ Matt 11:28

'Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and blessed, and broke it, and gave it to the disciples and said, 'Take, eat; this is my body.' And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, 'Drink of it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.' (Matthew 26:26-28)

I went to the early Mass today. I couldn't get in the door fast enough. In fact, as I entered, breathless, after coming from the very steep outside steps, I nearly knocked over Father Murphy was was standing by the door. A broad smile washed across his face and a familiar welcome left his lips. He was happy to see me. A reminder - I was home.

Sometimes I forget how loved and supported I feel at my church, how every word there nurtures me and how every soul that sits about me seeks what I seek - communion with our God. Sometimes the hurt gets in the way, and I wonder why I can't see God or feel God when, in reality, I am cupped in the close of His hand.

Today, a song at Mass spoke of God healing the raw wounds that keep us up at night. It seemed to be sung just for me. Today the responsorial psalm was 'I turn to you, Lord, in time of trouble, and you fill me with the joy of salvation.' Truly, my pain was being tended to by my God.

And the Eucharist. For me, it is as if all of God's love is poured out in this sacrament. I never receive it without some sense of His coming closer to me. Today, after I received it, I felt the warmth I so desperately sought, and heard, in the still of my heart, 'I am here for you. Do not be afraid.' And with that, the pain slipped away. I knelt and prayed in the glow of significant morning light coming through the windows, but I was really elsewhere. I was with Him.

The Church teaches 'Holy Communion preserves the supernatural life of the soul by giving the communicant supernatural strength to resist temptation, and by weakening the power of concupiscence. It reinforces the ability of our free will to withstand the assaults of the devil.' In a formal definition, the Church calls Holy Communion 'an antidote by which we are preserved from grievous sins' (Council of Trent, October 11, 1551).'

That is exactly what it felt like to me today -- an antidote. I felt poisoned inside, and hurt beyond healing. And then, in an instant, it was gone. I don't have the power to do that on my own. How beautiful and inexpressibly generous of our God to find a way to heal us and cure us, right where we are. Yes, no matter who attacks us or how low we fall of our own accord, He is there to love us back into wholeness.

I love St. Therese of Lisieux's words on the Eucharist: 'The Guest of our soul knows our misery; He comes to find an empty tent within us - that is all He asks.'