Thinking After a Long Night at Church

Tonight was THE NIGHT.

I am speaking about none other than the Easter Vigil - the "marathon" liturgy at dusk. Attending the Vigil is among the most awe-inspiring and affirming experiences... And it happens every year!

Seeing the priests at Mass tonight was incredible - the looks on their faces show that this truly is the greatest celebration in the Church. So joyful, so relaxed... Masses at Christmastime, the priests never look this easygoing and cheery. In fact, all of the parishioners, in general, seemed much more at ease, very welcoming... almost excited! The beauty of the close-knit, hardy, and faithfully-involved section of our Parish community!

On this particular occasion I had a lot of intriguing thoughts regarding my particular vocation. Even among the kind and cheerful parishioners, I felt so alone. This was the fourth or fifth time that I'd ever been to the Vigil, the last three times of which I've gone without my family and tonight was, if I recall correctly, the first time when I did not sit with friends or a woman with whom I was romantically involved.

I felt very strongly that I needed a companion there to share the grand celebration of the Eucharist. I felt very strongly that, in the future, I will need a companion for this... And seeing all the happy couples and all the cute little kids in their baptismal dresses and suits did nothing to quell these feelings!

Well, that's enough sap for now!

Aw yeah it's all I know
This empty road
Keeps me lookin'
For a place in your heart
-- Empty Road by Matthew Good

Keeps me searchin' for that Heart of Gold
-- Heart of Gold by Neil Young

Perseverance

Is that even how you spell that? Holy smokes...

Anyway, earlier this month, my roommate - darling SFO - decided to follow through with a recommendation made by one of our friends. SFO is now in the process of getting "jacked." Or ripped, or buff or whatever.

Most people, when discussing plans to get in shape, will mention that it's best when working out becomes part of your routine. However, going from a sedentary lifestyle to one that involves strenuous physical activity at specified intervals and in regimented form is difficult. It requires dedication, discipline and perseverance. All good things.

Reflecting on the events of today, Good Friday, I have realized how the Church has always been promoting these values and methods - not for working out, but rather for the incorporation of prayer into one's daily life.

Yet, in my opinion, it is so difficult to stick to - or formulate and begin - a routine for prayer. Part of what makes it so difficult is that I seldom know where to start. Do I just open the Bible and start reading? Do I simply talk to God? Can I approach a priest to ask for advice?! Is that something people do?

Very good questions - but what are the answers? Indeed, as everyone has a different learning style, so, likely, does everyone have a different praying style*. Finding that out has been a very difficult trial in itself, so far. But it appears that everywhere I turn I find that the recommendation of making prayer into a routine, a devotion, a life†, is standard.

Further to that, the results of a life of prayer are sometimes invisible. The results are not readily seen - not even as "readily" as those hoped for through physical exercise. This is a great source of frustration for me: I give up far too easily, far too often.

It takes dedication, discipline and perseverance. Lots. Fortunately, the strength to muster these in spades is found in the Lord God... I just need to keep reminding myself of that.




*I almost typed partying style. Indeed, people have different ones-of-those, too.
†Or perhaps it is turning a life into a prayer?

Irony... and just plain haggard stuff

This morning, I was a mess. Evidence of this is found in the fact that I woke up beside my buddy Clinto, who, upon waking up himself, declared, "Oh man... Matt, give me some not head-death."

I gave him some Advil. He was appreciative, but unsatisfied with the quickness of the relief. He demanded INSTANT GRATIFICATION!

Anyway, needless to say, last night consisted of a grand ol' time involving conversations with people I haven't spoken to in months or, in some cases, years. I also discovered the beauty of Iceberg gin. Those Newfoundlanders can really throw a good gin together.

But I digress. As I was saying, I was a mess. Right now, I feel much better (full of vigour and resolve?). I just arrived home from celebrating Mass, which was a very good thing - as it always is. And, today being Palm Sunday, I was audience to the traditional reading of The Passion.

The Passion is so incredibly moving... I am ashamed by this. I am ashamed because when I hear it told, I get chills and goosebumps and I sometimes even shed tears. But I so readily forget the meaning of it. I so readily harden my heart to it and allow myself to detach myself from the implications of the greatest series of events in history, and I fall into some very bad habits.

I've done a lot of things over the last few weeks that I would be a fool to repeat. It would be closing the door on the most complete and true love that I could ever know.

But I have done that before. And all the while I have been well within reach of the most perfect reason to refrain...

Po-ih-tree

I stand waiting
for a mug of green tea

to wrap my fingers around


But my fingers are wrapped

in black leather

Reunions

The last week has seemed very long. So much has happened.

There have been some separations, some new experiences (which gave rise to anxiety, relief and then uncertainty), but also new hope.

Among the hopeful things is the possible reunion of Palestorm.

I actually can't believe it. In but a few short months, I could be in a hall or bar somewhere listening to such amazing hits as Cut the Flame, Shattered Dreams, and Spy!