Okay, okay, I know I promised stories, but I need to write a reflection first, because I want to get this out there and also because I have an exam tomorrow (and procrastination reigns supreme!). So pray for us with our exams. Yes, I know it's June, but again, everything is later in Italy.
As I was visiting St. Peter's one day a few weeks ago, I ventured into the Adoration Chapel off to the North side of the Basilica. I often visit there to pray a Holy Hour in front of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament. It is an absolutely beautiful chapel, constructed and painted by Bernini and company (who the heck is Bob Ross?). The best part, though, is the golden monstrance on the altar, holding the Eucharist, which if you know Catholic Teaching, holds that Jesus Christ is truly present there, though it appears to be a simple piece of bread (see all of John 6, especially verse 55).
Well, I was on my way in, collar-clad and all, but being gentlemanly (that is a word), I decided to hold the curtain open for those passing through. You see, the doorway to the Chapel is just an open door with huge drapes or curtains hanging down in the empty space. This curtain-door reduces noise in the chapel...and it's fun to watch swing back on an unsuspecting tourist...uh, which of course is why I was holding it for them....
So as I was standing there, holding the curtain, it hit me (not the curtain): this is what a Priest is meant to be. The Priest is the one who stands at the threshold between Jesus and His people, pulling back the veil so that they may discover Him in the Sacraments. That is what it is all about.
And in light of that, I wrote a little poem. It's not complete, but I figured I ought to share it with you all. Please enjoy and then pray for Priests! God bless, and know you are in my prayers!
Doorway to Adore
There is a room of purest gold
whose beauties fly aloft,
where gather those on bended knee
whose whispers echo soft.
They gather there, from whence who knows?
Intentions all the same:
To see the One who rests within,
and softly calls their name.
And I, I stand here at the door,
the curtain mine to hold.
A collared usher leading them
to One who heals their soul.
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