Last week, I started training as a Safety Management Officer at my parish, Church of the Holy Spirit. To say I didn’t know what I was getting myself into would be an understatement.
I ended up standing around most of the time, helping uncles and aunties check in for mass, and generally just overseeing the entire TraceTogether and mass registration processes.
Oh, and connecting with several new faces on the Safety Management Team, and reconnecting with other familiar ones. Some idle chit-chat in between incoming spurts of parishioners.
On the whole, not a lot of work, and no big deal.
Except it is a big deal.
The trouble with online masses is that they really are a pale shadow of communal Eucharistic celebrations, not just because we don’t get to receive Jesus in the Flesh, but also because we don’t get to see our fellow believers in the flesh. Yes, our focus should always be on the Lord (and his priest in persona Christi) during mass, but my heart has always, always been lifted at the sight of both friends and familiar strangers, companions on our journey together in faith.
Like the autistic teenager whose sudden outbursts weary his parents, but warm my heart.
And the little boy who puts us all to shame with his VERY LOUD proclamations of the Nicene Creed and other key prayers.
And the old folks in wheelchairs or mobility scooters, nearing their end but still fervent in their faith.
Truly, in the days when all of us had to stay away from church, I missed them almost as much as I missed the Eucharist. As we are called to see Him in the people around us, this should be no surprise.
Now that our nation is slowly emerging from the valley of darkness that is COVID-19, our parishes are similarly opening up again. I’m sure that churches everywhere are in need of volunteers to help manage the growing numbers of returning parishioners, and to keep everyone safe while glorifying God.
That is why I didn’t hesitate to shoulder this responsibility when asked if I could.
That is why I’ll continue to spend almost two hours each weekend on what I first thought to be a Herculean task, but turned out instead to be pretty straightforward, almost to the point of mind-numbing.
Because when I get to interact with my brethren in Christ, it’s no longer boring.
Dear brothers and sisters, I implore you now to search your heart. If you are fully vaccinated, and are not actively serving in your parish at this moment (choirs are particularly hard-hit in this regard), ask to help out with safety management in some capacity, then sit with your fellow parishioners at mass, breathe in the communal love for God and from God, and know that you are home.
And as we celebrate a subdued but no less important National Day, let’s recall a familiar song from long ago, as it should have been sung…
This is home truly
Where I know I must be
Where my Lord waits for me
Where His Love will always flow
This is home surely
As the Spirit tells me
This is where I won’t be alone
When God is there, I know it’s home
Amen.