Ferragosto and the wedding of the sea

It is the feast of the Assumption, Ferragosto in Rome. This year I am down at the beach, where it is just as hot and humid as the last time I was in Rome for the Assumption. The church here is air conditioned, unlike the church in Albano, and the cool Atlantic waters offer sweet relief after a walk. Like Albano, church bells have been ringing all day here. To call the faithful to Mass. And the carillon currently playing an eclectic mix of patriotic songs and hymns (none of them Marian).

The tradition here is to bless the ocean, then take a dip to share in the blessing -- before the grace evaporates at midnight. The water was a bit rough, but then grace can be rough at times, too. I made sure to get in the water. The bishop starts in Atlantic City and finishes in Wildwood, it seems, so the entire Jersey shore gets a share in the grace. 

I finished Velvet the Night by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. It was a riveting read, with enough unanticipated twists and turns to occasionally make me gasp. (I could almost taste the tortas in the little cafe in Mexico City, so tried the local tacqueria for dinner.) Finished Blue Lightning by Ann Cleeves (a re-read). Dug into Frederick Buechner's The Remarkable Ordinary, which is remarkable and not in the least ordinary. Downloaded The Impossible Us to start.

A litany for a pastor

The pastor of my parish, an Augustinian friar, died yesterday.  He was young, or least my age, which feels to me young. There will be a mass on Thursday at the parish, another on Friday at the Augustinian church on Villanova's campus.  I wrote the intercessions for Thursday's liturgy, reaching for the form of a litany, thinking, too, of a long ago theology grad school classmate and Dominican sister who would remind us that we should always be blessing.  May he be blessed, may we all be so blessed.

In baptism
John was marked with the cross, clothed in Christ,
and entrusted with the eternal light, undimmed in sharing.

        May that Light guide his way home.

In the Eucharist,
John was nourished by the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood.

        May he be welcomed to the eternal feast in the halls of heaven.

In Holy Orders
John was anointed to sanctify God’s holy gifts for God’s holy people, a priest forever.

        May he now joyfully celebrate at the heavenly altar.

John tended the earthly gardens God entrusted to him with joy, tenderness, mercy and compassion.

        May the communities at Monsignor Bonner, Villanova, Maggie Valley and Our Mother of Good Counsel continue to grow in love and mercy.

        May the gardens he planted flourish for years to come.

For all who have gone before us, marked with the sign of faith,
who await us in the heavenly kingdom.

        We pray.

Happy anniversary

Upstairs on the shelf in my prayer corner is a book in a bright binding.  In it, I wrote the order for my and Math Man's wedding. It was the first for Math Man, the second for me.  Celebrated in the parish church on this day 23 years ago.

I wrote the order by hand. The readings, the prayers.  All of it.  It was a meditation at the time, and remains so when I pick it up.

The parish liturgist and I drafted the liturgy, winnowing down the choices for Math Man, who wasn't Catholic.  Not Mass.  Bride and groom down the aisle together.  No video recording (though Math Man's aunt made a surreptitious recording of it, I noticed looking at the photos tonight the camera in her husband's hands as they came out of the church. ) No photos taken during the ceremony. Just around the edges.

At the end of it all, before we recessed down the aisle, Math Man (whose maternal family was Jewish) broke a glass.  I like the rabbinical readings of that tradition that emphasize the intermingling of joy and sorrow, apt for this wedding of a widow, and can still hear the voice of my elderly Jewish colleague call "Mazel tov!"

Many of our choices in and out of the liturgy were about keeping the focus on the sacrament, being present to what was happening and being attentive to the people coming to celebrate with us.  No bridesmaid's uniform, or tuxes for the groomsmen.  Wear something garden-party-ish.  No micromanaging.  Unfancy food and games for the kids a hedge over from the reception, so kids and parents could be where they needed to be.

Flowers?  Ordered the week ahead of time from a florist who didn't faint when I said I needed wedding flowers in ten days time, and didn't care much about color or composition. I still look at the bouquet and think how lovely it was. And Math Man's boutonniere is dried and carefully stored in a jar on my dresser.  We had a wonderful time celebrating with our families and friends, all the more since we let go of many of the details.

As I knelt in the back of the church today for a brief moment, I rejoiced again in the gift of Math Man's love, and the ongoing support of the community of faith we live in and of our families and friends.

---

Math Man is away today, the first time we've been separated on our anniversary, many time zones to the east.  He called via FaceTime as I was talking to my dad.  "Sorry, Dad, it's Math Man -- have to go!"  Math Man wondered if my dad minded knowing he was second on my list.  Nope!

Improving my car-ma: blessings

I have a new car (Holy Spirit red, though I opted out of flames down the side), and after the last six months (in which I have had 4 car accidents), my community was taking no chances.

This morning after Lauds, one of the Augustinians whipped up a new batch of holy water, we gathered up the Book of Blessings and the aspersorium (the bucket in which you put holy water to be used in an asperges — sprinkling — rite, the sprinkler itself is called an aspergillum) and processed (perhaps meandered would be a better word?) out to the parking lot to bless my car (and a couple of others as well):

"All-powerful God, Creator of heaven and earth, in the rich depths of your wisdom you have empowered us to produce great and beautiful works. Grant, we pray, that those who use this vehicle may travel safely, with care of the safety of others. Whether they travel for business or pleasure, let them always find Christ to be the companion of their journey." — from The Book of Blessings

I feel better, not necessarily because I think the car has been crash proofed (though please God, we're done with this game of bumped cars), but because I'm reminded that the boundaries between sacred and quotidian are permeable. God is present, in my car, as I drive, as inside the church walls.  And I love the reminder to have a care for others as I drive...

PrayTell today has a post about a story in the NY Times regarding spiritual cleansing of houses.  I was struck by two lines in the Times article:

"Running off the fumes of the big four religions, with a lacing of indigenous ritual and a dash of early 20th-century palaver — Madame Blavatsky by way of L. Ron Hubbard — the shamans and healers, mystics and mediums of the last century’s not-so-New Age have become indispensable exterminators for certain homeowners in New York and other big cities..." 

and

"Anyplace that sees a lot of traffic, she said, 'you really have to do it, just like you’re going to clean your carpets. You have a party, and you feel drained. Now we can explain it; we understand quantum physics.'"

I am a quantum physicist, and (a) I don't think we completely understand quantum physics (for example, there are these fascinating experiments that show that quantum mechanics applies to systems far larger than we thought) and (2) I don't think quantum physics explains the blessing of my car or the spiritual cleansing business.  But I still bless things.  For years (until Crash went to college) I blessed my children's heads with the sign of the cross before they went to bed.  Loaves of bread before I put them into the oven.  And remembering a priest friend who without fuss blessed my car before a late night trip back from a retreat, I blessed the car before the Boy departed for his first long solo trip (2 hours down to the beach).

Does anyone else bless the every day stuff of life? (The Book of Blessings has almost a thousand blessings in it...bridges, power stations, boats and fishing nets...)

______
What Crash was shocked to discover long ago about where holy water comes from....

More blessings

This morning I asked an Augustinian friend if he would bless Crash after Mass today (it was Crash's last outing as an altar server before he leaves for Wonderful Jesuit University). "Sure, we'll meet afterward."

The readings were certainly apt for sending off students, Wisdom setting an inviting table for those who would learn, Paul advising the Ephesians to be discerning. Wisps of memories kept drifting through. Standing with Crash at the doors to the Church, asking of the Church that he be baptized. The time he bent over after the second reading (from St. Paul to the Romans) and at age 5 whispered wonderingly in my ear, "Rome, I've been to Rome." Watching him grow taller and his shoulders broader over the decade he has been an altar server, now effortlessly balancing the Missal for the presider. I cried unabashedly as he came up the aisle today, holding up the cross to which I had bound him so many years ago.

Communion ended and the presider came down to the front of the altar, rather than stand at the presider's chair, to offer the Communion prayer and final blessing, and winked at Math Man and me as he did so. He gestured to Crash to bring the Missal to him, and said the prayer after Communion. He turned around to set the Missal back on the altar and as Crash went to move back to his place, he said, "Stay for a moment."

The presider asked if there were any other people headed off to college, and then went on to say that while his parents had asked for a blessing for Crash after Mass, it seemed to him that the whole community should be part and parcel of the blessing for all the young people we were sending on, so he'd decided to do it now. He noted that Crash was a "child of the parish" — baptized here, at a Mass 18 years ago, where the parish promised, aloud, to support us in our work. He then quoted from the second reading, "And do not get drunk on wine, in which lies debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit..." and said that may be the blessing college students need most, which made us all laugh.

He then grew serious as we asked God to grant that Crash and his compatriots be happy, successful, and filled with peace. That they might have wisdom. Grace flowed from the mystery we had just celebrated, in rivers. And then Crash picked up the cross again, and holding it high above our heads, led the way out.