Today is the feast of the conversion of St. Paul.
I love St. Paul. I find him absolutely wackydoodle. Breathless. Insistent. Nutty as a fruitcake. I have an entire post in draft about him I haven’t been able to finish that talks about this — and makes heavy references to Eddie Izzard’s “Letters of St. Paul to the Corithians skit (WARNING: Bad language here). Paul’s story is remarkable. His conversion, reee-dic-u-lously wonderful. His reach endless. . . Paul perfected his vocation. He was manic. And if he doesn’t makes you want to share your faith with the world, you must be dead.
So perfect day for a new beginning. A day in which I am bound and determined to stay out of my head, and get a bit more into Christ’s. In the words of Townsend. . Love reign o’er me.
As recommended by Fr. Richards in Surrender, I started off my day with “The Morning Offering”, to keep me focused.
O, Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer you my prayers, works, joys, sufferings of this day, in union with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass throughout the world. I offer them for all the intentions of your Sacred Heart: the salvation of souls, the reparation for sin, the reunion of Christians; and in particular for the intentions of the Holy Father this month.
Then, I went off to morning Mass. (Having some time on your hands does have its benefits).
So there I was. Me and the old ladies. I got to do the Liturgy of the Hours. The first time I did this I was clueless, and a lovely little old lady helped me out. This time, deep in thought, I forgot to sit down — and again, another nice little old lady helped me out. Or maybe it was the same little old lady. Not sure.
Listening to Paul and the readings, I meditated on/prayed about seeing through Christ’s eyes. And thought about how God is lending me (listen to Fr. Barron) this mind, this body, these eyes, and one glorious Roman nose!, so I could be his hands and feet on earth. Do his works. Show everyone His face in me.
So what am I doing with that privilege? What am I capable of?
There is another guy at church. He is blind, and comes with who I only assume is his grandmother. He puts his hands on her shoulders when they go up for the Eucharist. I only see him at morning mass.
At the Eucharist Adoration he sings. . . And oh my goodness, what a voice. I taped him this morning so I could share. Listen to that baritone (granted a bit muffled because I felt like a heel taping a blind man during the Eucharistic Adoration. . . )
Anyway, that is what he is doing with the body, the voice, the talents on loan to him by God. And by God, he is beautiful.
What am I going to do for God today? Can I give everything away for the good of others? Don’t know. But I sure as Hell am gonna try.